


The Proposal

by The_Nerd_Alert



Series: The Domestic Life of Steve and Yasha [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Marvel Avengers Fusion, Alternate Universe - The Proposal Fusion, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bruce and Clint are totally stoners, Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Dancing, Dirty Talk, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drowning, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F-bombs, Gay Sex, Inspiration, Language, M/M, Men Crying, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Poor Bucky, Rimming, Sex, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Smut, Tango, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Stark Is Not Helping, Tony Stark is an Asshole, Top Steve, Top Steve Rogers, Triggers, brief mention of underage sex, dat sex scene though, i just watched this film and couldn't help myself, inspired by the film The Proposal, mild mentions of violence, no powers, not like the film, original take on the film, poor steve, russian bucky, smut in chapter 9, stevexbucky - Freeform, this story is gradually diverging from the movie help, trigger warning: past domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-03-20 09:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 112,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3644679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Nerd_Alert/pseuds/The_Nerd_Alert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers works as an executive assistant for his demon of a boss James Barnes, at Pierce Publishing. Everyone HATES working with James Barnes, the epitome of Satan himself in every way possible. But when his Visa for immigration is denied, James quickly hatches a plan and drags Steve into a plot to thwart the United States Government into thinking they are engaged to avoid deportation. Thus follows the weekend from your wildest imagination as boss and employee learn about themselves and what it means to be truly happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Predicament

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Put On A Slow, Dumb Show For You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2435378) by [starclipped](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starclipped/pseuds/starclipped). 



> So to help myself get out of a writer's block, I started watching some movies to get the gears going. After downloading the Proposal, starring Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds, I couldn't help myself. This work is somewhat inspired by the movie and follows a slightly parallel storyline to the film so if you haven't seen the film, don't worry, it'll make complete sense. Though I gave it its own Marvel twist throughout the story, original plot points and noncanon moments, that will make this story more unique. I hope it's a fun ride for everyone, and hopefully this helps me get out of the slump I've found myself in. Enjoy! 
> 
> Side note, in the first chapter is a little more closely tied to the film than the rest of the story will be. After the first chapter, the creative juices get flowing and the story starts to take a MUCH more original approach. I also stole the line "Until then, your wagon is hitched to mine." because i just loved that sentence and couldn't help but input it. Because James is such a sassy shit, as it is...
> 
> Edit: bookending my story with this note to clear up any confusion at all. An ao3 member just pointed out to me that another member posted their version of James and Steve from this film about a couple months ago, and I had no idea. Let it be known that I did not intend to make it seem like I stole any ideas from anyone for the sake of this story. The movie is just that Damn good! So thank you so much FrostySoldier for informing me, and thank you starclipped for being the first person to post a Stucky ficlet based off of this wonderful film. I've decided to mark this as an inspired work by the original poster. I do hope you all enjoy!

The sunlight streamed through the drapes of his apartment, illuminating the form huddled up in the bed. The small crack in the window let in the sounds of another New York day, quickly rousing the slumbering person from his burrow. Steve Rogers blinked a bleary eye open to the sunlight waking him, yawning in his post-slumber confusion before a cold dread sank into his chest like a lead weight and he bolted into a sitting position. Glancing at his alarm clock, Steve groaned to find the red-illuminated numbers flashing "12:00" repeatedly.

  
"Shit." He growled, snatching his phone off of his table and staring in horror at the time. He was late. So very late.

  
Springing from the bed, he darted across the room, grabbing a suit from his closet and dressing without bothering to jump into the shower. He haphazardly fastened his tie around his neck before fleeing his apartment with briefcase in tow.

  
So fucking late.

  
There was a brief, maddening moment where he entertained the thought of skipping the coffee shop, though he knew realistically the consequences of such action would be dire at best and catastrophic at worst, and quickly made a bee-line for the Starbucks near his office. The line inside gave him pause, and a whimper of defeat escaped him.

  
"Steve!"

  
He looked up to see the friendly barista waving him to the front of the line, holding up the usual order in her hands with a huge grin on her face. Steve deflated and pushed his way to the front, grunting a few apologies here and there before grabbing the cups from her with a grateful and exhausted smile.

  
"Katie, you have no idea.. you've literally just saved my life." he breathed, smiling at her and tossing a generous tip into the tip jar before sprinting from the coffee shop and setting into a dead run for the office down the city block. Despite his rather intimidating size, the crowds were unrelenting as he pushed and shoved his way to the entrance of the building, the sunlight glinting off of the bronze placard hanging in bold, massive letters over the marble door frame. Pierce Publishing, one of the most prestigious publishing companies known to man, stood as the cornerstone of New York's publishing and editing field, and everyone who was lucky enough to get a job there fought tooth and nail to secure a position. Even a lowly executive assistant such as Steve Rogers. While anyone would be daunted by the leaps and bounds it would take to secure and ensure permanent employment there, it wasn't the sole reason for Steve's near daily anxiety over his job.

  
No... there was nothing that could be more harrowing than working for the free people's most prickly, cold-hearted, and emotionally void Chief Editor to ever walk the Earth. And James Barnes was more than proud to admit to being the demon-spawn of the professional world.

  
Steve barged into the nearly packed elevator with a grunted apology to his co-workers, taking a few scant moments to catch his breath as he held the coffee cups in his shaking hands. A quick glance to the side caught his immediate left's attention, and he offered up a weak smile. "One of those mornings.." was all he murmured, and received a sympathetic nod from his companion before the elevator fell into a deafening silence.

  
Upon arriving at his floor, he shoved his way out and began to march down the corridor, weaving his way through the crowds as he headed towards Mr. Barnes' office. Everyone who was anyone knew that it had to be hell working directly under the Chief Editor. No one really knew where Mr. Barnes had come from; only that he seemingly crawled from the stinking depths of Hell itself to make every single one of his employee's life a daily and exhausting tribulation.

  
Only a few people knew few details of Mr. Barnes' past and they were incredibly tight-lipped about it. James Barnes was a brilliant and iron-fisted tycoon that had graduated with his Master's degree from University at the tender age of 24. He'd immigrated from Russia to the United States three years ago with an editing and business degree clutched tightly in his grasp, and a soul void of any human sensibility. While James was a horror to work for , he was a brilliant businessman that streamlined the company into top ranks. Surely, had he the heart of any decent human being, he should have been a wonderful boss to anyone.

  
Instead, Steve felt like his dancing monkey, booking meetings, arranging PR conferences and hauling coffee and pastries whenever it struck Mr. Barnes' fancy. He was a glorified secretary at 26, who most certainly did not sign up for this bullshit.

  
"Steve, damn, you're cutting it close today!" a woman hissed to him over the receiver of her phone, and Steve sighed, holding up the coffees before him.

  
"It's just been one of those days, Lisa. I can't talk I got-" he started, though a passing file trolley he hadn't seen effectively cut off his sentence in a spray of coffee.

  
More importantly, James' coffee. Steve ran smack dab into the back of another employee, crushing the coffee cup in his hand and sending the hot liquid spraying across his white suit shirt. "Oh COME ON!" he whined, looking down at himself in dismay. All around him, voices murmured in collection, mixed amusement and pity for the now thoroughly fucked assistant.

  
Growling at himself, Steve chucked the now destroyed cup into the trash and rushed to the bathroom, carefully cradling the remaining coffee in his hands as he shut himself inside. Thank God, he'd had the foresight to bring an extra shirt to the office. His tie was ruined, but at least it was black. He could hide the coffee stains easily in that.

  
Steve changed in record time, tossing his ruined shirt into his bag and slipping out of the bathroom with the remaining cup, trying to straighten his tie. That was when he heard the office instant messenger tone echoing from multiple computers. His blood ran cold as the alarm was raised.

  
It's here.

  
Moving quickly, Steve darted into Barnes' office and set his briefcase down on the table, holding the cup dutifully in his hand as he waited for his executioner to arrive.

  
Outside the private office, silence fell across the masses as the elevator door chimed. Out stepped the devil himself, and everyone collectively held their breaths.

  
James Barnes was a sight to behold. Young looking with a strong jaw and jet black hair coiffed carefully on his head, face shaven to razor sharp detail and ice-cold eyes, he held an air of authority beyond his 27 years as he marched out of the elevator into the communal office. He cut a dashing figure in his pristinely tailored black suit and vest combination, the dark crimson shirt beneath no doubt soaked in the blood of his enemies. Had he had a shred of human decency in his body (this fact can NOT be stressed enough, it seems), he would have been an insanely attractive man, struck right out of a GQ centerfold.

  
Like dutiful students before the teacher, all of his employees kept their heads down and their fingers flying over the keys of their computers, working in near silence on whatever projects James hocked their direction. His shining dress shoes echoed across the floor as he marched into his office. Glancing up at his assistant with a blank expression, he didn't even blink as he snatched the coffee out of his hands and shoved his coat into the vacant digits.

  
"Rogers." James muttered, sitting at his desk as he pulled out the latest manuscripts from his inbox without so much as a cursory smile to his strung-thin assistant.

  
"Good Morning, Mr. Barnes." Steve replied, smiling brightly at him as he hung the coat up on the rack and grabbed his tablet to go over the day's schedule with him. "I just wanted to remind you, you have a conference call in half an hour, followed by a meeting with Janice. She's requesting status on her manuscript, and I reminded her that if she does not get a finalized copy to you by tomorrow afternoon, the project is pulled. HR is requesting a statement for last week's attendance records, and oh..' he flipped the page on his tablet before glancing up at him.

  
"Your immigration lawyer called. He's requesting you have a meeting with him this morning, he says it's a rather urgent subject."

  
James listened with only half interest, flipping through the first few pages of the manuscript before tossing it to the side and steepling his fingers on the desk. "Thank you, Mr. Rogers. Cancel the meeting with Janice, tell her her deadline has been moved to this afternoon, and keep my lawyer on the books for this meeting after lunch, no earlier. We're heading to Arnim's office to have a little chat with him, regarding a... certain matter. We have Oprah on the books for our newest publication."

  
Steve nodded, making the cursory notes on his tablet. He never stopped marveling at the perfect American accent James uttered. Had he not known he was employed by a tyrant straight from St. Petersburg, he could have passed for an average red-blooded Yankee. "Shall I go and inform Zola that you are on your way? I'm sure he would appreciate the heads up."

  
"No, If you actually LISTENED to me, you would have heard that you're coming with me.  If wanted your opinion on how I take care of my affairs, I would have asked you." James snapped, picking up his cup to take a sip. However, his eyes paused on the cup before he cleared his throat. "Uhm... Steven?" he said, holding the cup out to him. On the side of the white cardboard was a short note. "Who's Katie, and why am I calling her?" He offered his assistant a snake-like smile that sent Steve's bones into a shiver.

  
"Uhm..." he uttered intelligibly, rubbing the back of his neck. "That wasn't... for you. That was for me."

  
"Uh huh.. and why am I drinking YOUR coffee, Steven?"

  
Steve shuffled his feet for a moment before meeting his boss' gaze. "Because yours spilled?"

  
James stared him down for a few tense moments before lifting the cup to his lips and taking a drink. He rolled the flavors over his tongue for a moment before swallowing and offering up that snake-like smile again. "Well, what a coincidence that you just HAPPENED to order a non-fat caramel doppio latte, Steven."

  
Steve felt his cheeks flushing dark red and he swallowed, really wishing the ground would swallow him up and eat him alive. "Yes, that is a coincidence isn't it. I mean it's not a premeditated plan on the off chance that your coffee just HAPPENS to spill on any given day." he muttered, feeling somewhat small in all of his 6 foot 2 glory.

  
James just stared him down for a moment before tearing his gaze away, satisfied that he'd emasculated his assistant enough for the morning. Standing up, he gripped the cup in his hand and offered up a fairly plastic smile. "Premeditated. Hmm.. more like pathetic. Come along, Steven. Remember when we step inside his office, you are NOT to utter a single syllable. You are a prop, a fixture in the room at my behest. Understood?"

  
Steve slumped, nodding weakly to his employee as he followed him from the office like a kicked puppy. "Yessir..."

  
~*~

  
The meeting went as well as it could ever go with James. That is to say it ended with Arnim Zola, the company's most slippery Editor, screaming obscenities at James as he was informed rather bluntly that his failure to secure any sort of meeting with Oprah on the new publication had cost him his job. It turned out James had been the one to orchestrate the daytime spotlight, and his absolute irritation at having to do the Editor's job FOR him had resulted in a swift and brutal termination. Honestly, Steve was amazed that James had given Arnim two months to secure employment elsewhere before booting him to the curb.

  
The entire office fell into a deathly silence as James and Steve left Arnim's office, making their way back to James'. It felt rather like walking to his own funeral after that highly uncomfortable encounter.

  
"Steven, It looks like we're going to have to make some changes this week, regarding hours. I'm afraid you'll have to come into the office this weekend and cover up all the slack Zola left behind for us. No exceptions." James coolly stated, not even bothering to meet his gaze.

  
Steve felt the bottom of his stomach drop out from him and he swallowed, looking at his boss as if he'd grown a second head. "Th-this weekend? B-But, that's my Aunt Peggy's 90th birthday party, I promised I'd be there!" he exclaimed, stopping in his tracks.

  
James halted in his steps and turned, staring at him with an expression that brooked no argument. He was NOT having this insubordination at all. Glaring at Steve, he turned and faced him fully, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry Mr. Rogers, I don't think I heard you correctly." he growled, mercifully giving Steve a chance to amend himself. Steve was stunned that James was so capable of even a sprinkle of mercy in his heart.

  
Steve swallowed, stepping back from his piercing gaze and sighed. "No.. no.. it's fine. I'll call them and cancel." he muttered, feeling utterly defeated. Sometimes he wondered if the possibility of being promoted to Editor anytime in his lifetime was worth this much grief. Not that James even ACKNOWLEDGED that fact...

  
James nodded and turned on his heel, satisfied with Steve's answer before glancing at his watch. "I'm afraid it's time for me to see my lawyer. Resume your work in my office, but do NOT forget to fetch me in ten minutes. We have far too much to do this afternoon." he said, waving his assistant off with a flippant toss of his wrist. He marched off without another word, leaving Steve standing in the aisle with a stunned expression on his face.

  
~*~

  
James exited the elevator on the third floor, marching past the varying secretaries without so much as a shred of notice, and ignoring their civil attempts at greeting. He didn't have time to speak to anyone beneath him at this moment. He had far too much on his mind to deal with petty discussion.

  
Letting himself into Pierce's office, he plastered on his best smile and straightened his suit jacket before greeting his lawyer and the Editorial Chairman. "Mr. Pierce. Mr. Schmidt, it's good to see you both." he crooned, shaking both of men's hands in turn. "Thank you for seeing me today, I hope everything is going well."

  
Pierce smiled at James and nodded, sitting back down in his seat before gesturing to his paperwork. "Mr. Barnes, before we get started, I just wanted to say I caught wind of your work. Congratulations on securing that television spot with Oprah, you have no idea how beneficial that is to our company."

  
James smiled at him and nodded, crossing his hands behind his back in a proud stance. He'd worked too damn hard to earn some sort of respect as the youngest Chief Editor this company had seen in so long, and to hear such praise was enough to stuff yet another feather into his over-plumed hat. "Thank you so much. Now this meeting.. this isn't about my uh.. second raise is it?" he asked, chuckling to himself at his own joke.

  
Pierce and Schmidt looked to each other for a moment before returning their attention to the desk before them. "Mr. Barnes.. do you recall the uh... event of me telling you not to go to the Toronto bookfair due to your Immigration Visa application? It's highly imperative that all rules of your current status are upheld. And yet.. I find that you DID indeed leave the country against the laws of your current status regardless?"

  
James, ever cool and collected, just smiled and nodded. "I do realize that that was against policy, sir. However, had I NOT gone, the proposal given at the fair would have gone to-"

  
"Mr. Barnes, the United States Government does not CARE who publishes what." Schmidt spoke up, glancing at his client with a firm expression. "You directly violated a VERY important rule. Now, we spoke to the Immigration office just this morning..."

  
James, for the first time in what felt like forever, felt somewhat flustered. However, he kept that smile on his face and latched onto the sentence with renewed vigor. "Great! I mean, everything is taken care of, yes? They understood the implications of my uhm... very very MINOR infraction, right?"

  
Pierce sighed, glancing up at Schmidt before glancing down at the papers in his hands. "I'm afraid not. Mr. Barnes. Your Visa application has been thusly denied due to this offense and you are being deported, back to Russia."

  
The world felt out from beneath James' feet. He stared at the two of them, his carefully crafted expression cracking slightly as the words sank in. ".. de.. deported?" he croaked, feeling his face draining of color. "But.. but there's.. I mean.. seriously, that can't be the final outcome. I mean there's something that can be done, right?" He asked, looking to his lawyer with a hint of desperation on his face.

  
Schmidt stood, addressing his client directly. "Well, we can always have you reapply, but unfortunately you will have to leave the country for at least a year before anything can be done. And this time.. make sure you fill out the paperwork correctly and in a timely manner?"

  
James felt the coffee he'd just drank threaten to come back up and he swallowed thickly, feeling his palms beginning to sweat. "A year.. that's.. not.. ideal at all, but I can continue to work. The marvels of video conferencing and such. It.. it can be done!"

  
"James, if you are deported, you legally cannot work for an American company. I'm sorry but we're turning operations over to Arnim Zola, he is the ONLY other man in this building with your qualifications to complete the job."

  
"Arnim.. the.. the guy I just FIRED? You can't be SERIOUS!" He gasped, feeling just this side of hysterical. "Alexander, please.. PLEASE I'm begging you, there has to be SOMETHING that can be done!"

  
As James stood for his emotional trial, the sound of the office door creaking open caught their attention, and all three men turned to see Steve inching his way into the office. James, for all intents and purposes, wanted nothing more than to clock his assistant in the head for interrupting such an important negotiation.

  
"I'm so sorry to interrupt, but uhm.. Mr. Barnes, Janice is on the phone again, she's INSISTING she speak with you."

  
"Steven, now is REALLY not the time!" James hissed, turning to glare daggers at his assistant. He only felt a slight improvement in his mood as he saw Steve slink back just slightly.

  
Steve glanced between the men, feeling as if he'd interrupted something huge. However, he stood his ground and closed the door behind him, rather than fleeing from the fiery gaze of his employer as instinct told him to. "I know, Mr. Barnes. Janice is insisting she speak with you directly. I told her you were otherwise engaged and unable to come to the phone at this moment, but I don't know how long I can hold her off."

  
The room fell into the type of silence that only occurred in the best of films. James stared at Steve for a moment, his shoulders ceasing their tremors. That word. It was like a trigger.

  
Engaged...

 

.............

  
Eureka.

  
James stared at him as the cogs of inspiration began to turn in his head and his expression melted into the wholly unreadable facade that gave even the most insane of men pause. He glanced over his shoulder at Pierce and Schmidt before glancing back at Steve and met his gaze head on. "Uh..."

Steve blinked, staring at his boss for the second time that day in abject confusion, feeling like the cross-hairs of calamity were fixed right on his forehead. What now... "... Uhh..?"

  
James' face hardened and he mouthed, 'come here' at Steve. When the confusion grew too great, James rolled his eyes and gesticulated at the floor next to him as subtly as possible and hissed "Get over here! NOW." His gaze did NOT leave Steve's until the blond inched his way closer to James' side and looked between the three men like a deer caught in headlights.

  
James turned his attention back to the other two men, plastering a convincingly apologetic look on his features and clasped his hands before him. "Gentlemen... Uhm.. I suppose this is not... what I mean to say is.. I realize that this is an unfortunate... impossibly inconvenient moment for everyone but.. I suppose now is as good a time as any to come out and say it.." James stepped back next to Steve and sidled right up to him, bumping shoulders with the slightly taller man and offering up his superiors a smile. 'Steven and I .. we're uhm.. we're.. we're getting married!" he finished, wrapping one arm around Steve's waist and patting his chest with his free palm, cozying up to his side.

  
Shellshock. That was the best way.. the ONLY way, really, to describe Steve's reaction. He blinked, looking at his boss for a moment before glancing up at the others, completely bereft of his speech. "Uhhhmm...."

  
"Married... isn't.. isn't he your secretary?" Schmidt scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Steve for a moment as if to read the lie on his face. James only laughed and patted Steve's chest a little harder, shaking him in his spot to get him to speak up and play along with the ruse.

  
"Oh, not secretary. Executive assistant.. titles and all that. No, well.. you know how unprecedented it is, but it's hardly unlikely that NO ONE has ever fallen in love with their assistants before.. I mean, surely you'd know that, Mr. Schmidt?" he asked, beaming at him. Steve still wasn't talking, and James took the moment to pinch the side of his ribs sharply.

  
"Uhm.. yes.. Married.." Smooth, Steve. Way to be a whole 30 seconds behind the entire conversation. Oh God, what the HELL was going on?

  
Pierce gazed between the two scrupulously before leaning back in his seat and smiling. "James... That... is.. wonderful. I'm so happy to hear that, and congratulations to your fiancé. However... I would be happy to make this work with the Immigration office as long as you make it legal." he said, tapping his ring finger and giving James a pointed look.

  
"Oh of COURSE!" James laughed, holding up his own left hand briefly before hiding it behind Steve's back again. "No need to worry about that, sir. We're headed up to Steve's family's house to tell them the happy news this weekend!" The four of them fell into an uncomfortable silence again, and James cleared his throat, looking up at Steve. "So we're.. we're good now? Because we should head down to the Immigration office straight away and make this whole bad boy legal now, eh? C'mon Stevie.. let's.. let's go." he said, bowing his head to the others and near forcibly tugging his assistant from the office. As the door closed behind them, and Steve felt himself dragged back to James' office, he felt like the his life had just ended in the most confusing, embarrassing way possible.

  
Why did he wake up this morning...

  
~*~

  
Steve stood before James' desk, locked away in their silent office together. He stared down at James with that same blank expression, watching James fuss over his latest works for the longest of moments, seemingly unaffected by the absolutely ludicrous predicament he'd just thrust them both into.

  
Through the rustling of paper, the air grew tense between them, and James looked up, mercifully cutting off the awkward tension. "What?"

  
Steve blinked.. inhaled.. thought better of his current train of thought, and tried again. "I don't know what just happened.. is this real life?"

  
"Relax Steven, this benefits you too."

  
Steve scoffed, staring down at his boss and planting his fists on the glass-top desk. "Oh? DO Enlighten me, JAMES." he murmured, feeling emboldened enough by the situation to talk down to his boss for once. How liberating it actually felt.

  
James sighed, putting his papers down and staring up at him. "Steven, they were going to make Arnim Chief Editor in my absence, and if that had happened, well you can just kiss your hopes and dreams of promotion goodbye, and every second of your life you strive to touch the lives of millions of readers out there is gone in the blink of an eye. Besides, it's not like you were saving yourself for someone special. I'm doing you a favor." James shot back, his tone as cold and calculating as ever.

  
Steve stared at him, feeling the fight leaving him almost instantly. Vaguely he felt impressed that James had even caught onto his intentions of possible promotion, and filed that tidbit away in favor of bolstering his words with a last minute argument. "James.. I'm not going to marry you. It's ludicrous. And it's, get this, ILLEGAL. I'm not doing it."

  
James slowly lowered his papers again, standing up from his seat and glaring him down with that familiar fire of authority. "Yes you are." he growled, walking around the desk and standing before Steve to meet his gaze head on. Even an inch shorter than him, James was a tiger in man's clothing, ready to rip apart anyone who dared stand in his way. "And do you know why you're going to marry me? Because all of those nights we spent together, slaving over work, all the book conventions, signings, hours poured into our careers will be down the drain, and you will be out on the corner of the street begging for scraps the minute Armin fires your ass, while I get sent back to the icy hell hole I came out of called St. Petersburg. Neither of us want that." He locked his eyes on Steve for a moment before continuing. "We'll do this little weekend getaway, meet your family.. plant the seed that we're getting married and go elope. Then when everything has blown over and my status as an American citizen is established, we can go get a silent divorce, pretend none of this ever happened and move on with our lives. Until then, your wagon is hitched to mine. Capische?"

  
Steve stared at him, feeling like his entire world ended. The thick silence was cut by the sound of the phone ringing, business thrumming as usual. James smiled at him, none of the intended comfort making his way to his features before he gestured to the phone with his head. "Answer that. We have work to do before we head down to the Immigration office, Steven."

  
And with that, the conversation was over. James returned to his papers at his desk as if Steve didn't even exist, leaving his assistant standing in the aftershocks of the most preposterous afternoon to hit New York. The only thing that could make this day worse was a poorly timed alien invasion.

  
Deep down, Steve wondered if the body snatchers hadn't already invaded and hijacked his boss' body to turn his whole life on its ear...

 

 


	2. An Honest Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and James set forth with their plot, with Phil Coulson hot on their tails to oust them as crooks. James and Steve fly to Alaska, and learn a bit more about each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote Chapter 2 in a cafe, waiting for my shift to start. Any mistakes are mine. Unbeta'd

Steve sat in the cold metal chair of the overcrowded office, twisting the brochure in his hand with a nervous air. His knee bounced in anticipation, eyes flicking to the door every so often as he wondered how quickly and how easily he could make a break without anyone noticing his absence, let alone his boss.

  
To his left, James sat in his own rigid back chair, his phone pressed to his ear as he casually rattled on in conversation with whomever was on the other end, seemingly unphased by the whole thing going on around them. How in God's green earth could James sit there so patiently, waiting for the other shoe to drop and the two of them to become so entwined in the shitstorm they had barreled into without preamble? Steve's eyes flicked to the door again and he shifted in his spot.

  
"Steven, for God's sake, stop fidgeting!" James hissed, covering the mouthpiece of his phone as he seethed at his assistant. That got the intended reaction, as Steve sat ramrod straight in his chair and put the brochure down onto the desk to halt any sort of nervous tick he could possibly do. The poor piece of paper was so badly mangled at his point, Steve was about to turn the weary paper into confetti as it was.

  
Minutes ticked by, and Steve wondered if they'd both been forgotten in the hectic bustle of the Immigration office. But just before he could relax fully, the sound of the door handle rattling caught his attention and his eyes blew wide as anxiety rushed through his veins. Looking up, Steve caught sight of a friendly looking man with a slightly balding head of hair make his way into the office and smile down at them.

  
"Mr. Barnes. Mr. Rogers, I presume." The man said, extending his hand to each of them in turn. "I'm very sorry for being late. Quite a few applications to take care of these days, you know."

  
"Oh it's no trouble Mister..." James started, shaking his hand with a firm grip. His voice trailed off in prompt of learning the man's name.

  
"Coulson. Phillip Coulson." he answered, sitting down at his desk before plucking up James' file and skimming the pages for a moment. James leaned back in his seat, relaxed and poised as always. Steve, on the other hand, stared at the paper as if afraid it would come to life and bite them all in the ass. Probably could at this point in time, to be honest.

  
After a few minutes deliberation, Coulson looked up from his sheet and smiled at them, folding his hands over his desk as he met their gazes. "First question I have for you both. Is this a half-assed attempt at overwriting the rule of the American government and spearheading James into an illegal citizenship by fraud?"

  
The question was asked so bluntly, so casually, Coulson might as well have been asking about the weather. Steve blanched at him and swallowed, looking over at James before his mouth flopped open uselessly. He was pretty sure his IQ level had dropped a few dozen points in this day alone, and was apparent by his very much lack of response.

  
James, on the other hand, looked at Coulson for a moment before laughing and slapping his hand on his knee. "That's a good one, sir. Oh no of COURSE not. One hundred percent legal and binding. I'm not entirely sure where you got the idea to assume such a thing right off the bat."

  
Coulson just smiled at him and plucked up his paperwork, handing it to James before resuming. "I'm a pretty good judge of character, Mr. Barnes. Call it a superpower, but I'm fairly good at spotting a liar when I see one. Aside from the very.. VERY abrupt change in your relationship status, your previous paperwork applying for your Visa has been... let's say, less than stellar. Now." he sighed, leaning back in his chair and glancing between the two of them. "I'm very willing to be as understanding as possible for the two of you. Just be lucky my partner is not the one conducting this case. Nick is heavily notorious for throwing illegal immigrants out of the country. By hand. His track record over the years is impossibly accurate, and he takes absolutely no trouble from anyone."

  
As he spoke, the sound of shouting could be heard through the glass front walls of his office. Both James and Steve looked up to see a young man being hustled through the office by a very angry looking agent. Steve wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he saw the dark skin of the man doing the shouting was turning an interesting shade of chocolate cherry, and the young man looked absolutely terrified as he was dragged by his elbow out of the office.

  
Swallowing thickly, he looked over at Coulson and offered him a weak smile, leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on his knees. James, the little shit that he was, seemed completely at ease with the whole thing and just continued to smile his sickly sweet grin at their legal attorney.

  
"Mr. Coulson. I can ASSURE you, that we are not trying to pull the wool over anyone's eyes. Honestly, we are just... just two professional men that fell in love when the odds were stacked against us. I do apologize for the poorly filled forms... my last executive assistant was not what you'd call a competent woman. But I can assure you, if you'd just let me refill the forms out and us be on our way, we promise we will be no more trouble to any of you. We'll quietly go get married, and move on with our lives."

  
Coulson stared him down for a moment before turning his same, friendly smile over to Steve and leaned over his desk. "Ive heard his side of the story, Mr. Rogers. Care to share with the class? Can we hear YOUR side of this whole affair, Steven?" he lowered his voice, ignoring the indignant look he got from James, and canted his head to the side. "I can assure you that if you have a different story than what James is telling, and you share it willingly, I can promise you amnesty from this whole thing. If not.. and I find out that you BOTH have been conspiring to try and lie your way into an illegal proposition, James here will be deported from the country, permanently, with no chance of reapplication. As for you, Mr. Rogers... I'm afraid the consequences are much more dire. You will be sentenced to a minimum of 5 years imprisonment in a federal prison, with a 250,000 dollar fine floating over your head, and a black mark on your ledger. Have I made myself abundantly clear?"

  
Jesus Christ, Steve didn't know who was worse: James and his condescending smirk, or Coulson and his sickeningly polite attitude. He looked between the two men for a moment before swallowing thickly, wondering why the hell it was so hot in this office. The three of them fell into complete silence as the weight of the situation weighed entirely on Steve's shoulders. He could FEEL the death glare boring into the side of his head from his boss, and physically felt sick as he continued to be scrutinized by the boy scout in front of him.

  
"Well? Mr. Rogers, I'm waiting. I can also sweeten the deal and promise you that if you let this case fall into my partner's very capable hands, neither of you will legally live to see another day."

  
Oh Christ. Steve shivered, looking over at James for a moment as he geared himself up to speak. Opening his mouth, a faint croak left his throat as he tried to gauge his nerves. "Mr. Coulson.. this whole thing... what the honest truth is..."

  
James stared at him with a mixture of death promises and fear painting his carefully sculpted expression of neutrality, his fingers digging into his knees as he waited for Steve to speak.

  
Then Steve surprised them BOTH.

  
"The truth of the matter is.. James is right. We were just two men that fell in love against the odds, and want to make it legal. I love this man, with all of my heart, and the thought of him leaving the country over a silly piece of paper just.. just shatters me. I assure you.. this is very much real."

  
The relief that rolled off of James' shoulders was palpable as he turned and offered Coulson an emotional smile, even going so far as he feign a sniff. Disgusting. "You see, Mr. Coulson? True love at it's finest." he said wiping his finger under his eye for show.

  
Coulson looked between them before huffing a frustrated sigh and rubbing the bridge of his nose carefully. "I see how it is. Fine, if you two are going to be playing this game, then we might as well go the whole nine yards, yes?" he plucked up a post-it note pad and began to jot some information down. "I'm setting you up with an interview for Tuesday morning, 9 am sharp. Take this, and this binder." he said, handing them the post-it and a binder with dozens of sheets of paper inside. "The interview will be conducted in two parts. This binder holds all of the questions inside that will be asked of you both, and come Tuesday morning, if your answers do NOT match up, then we'll have to take legal matters into our own hands for both of you. Understood?"

  
Steve shot out of his seat. He took the binder and post it in his hands and nodded to Coulson, booking it for the door without waiting for his boss. James stood at a much more sedate pace and took the time to shake Coulson's hand graciously. When pleasantries were passed, James followed Steve out of the building, surprised that the great hulking lug had managed to sprint so efficiently through the building.

  
By the time James found Steve outside, the blond was leaning against a sidewalk post, holding himself up by his hands on his knees and looking completely shaken. "Well that wasn't so bad was it?" he chirped, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the dozen emails he'd received while in the meeting.

  
Steve looked up at James incredulously before suddenly righting himself and snatching the phone out of his hands. "I'm sorry, James but were you NOT JUST LISTENING TO WHAT HAPPENED? Are you KIDDING ME? I'm not taking a bullet like THAT for you, after all these years. Two years of being your coffee gopher, and now I'm supposed to risk my FREEDOM because you can't keep your legal affairs in order? You're out of your damn mind!"

  
"Steve, baby, stop shouting." James cooed, trying to grab his phone back. But when Steve just held it away from him, his face hardened again into that usual scowl. "Give me my phone back, Steven."

  
Normally, that tone of voice and that face would have Steve going belly up. But not this time. He glared down at him in return and shook his head. "No. Not this time, Mr. Barnes. This isn't worth it to me. I'm sorry but if this is how you treat people, then I quit and you're going back to Russia. Buh bye now." he snapped, throwing James' phone into his chest and turning to stalk away.

  
"STEVE WAIT!" James called, sounding panicked. Steve turned, seeing for the first time, actual emotion on James' face. He looked terrified. While he was pissed, Steve wasn't the kind of person to leave anyone hanging like that, and the looked that James exuded was clearly at his wit's end.

  
Sighing heavily, he stalked back over to James and crossed his arms. "What."

  
James waffled, looking around the sidewalk before stuffing his hands into his pockets, and looking up at Steve with a pleading gaze. "Please... please just do this for me, Steven. I can't leave the country, I've worked too hard to make something of myself in this life.. I can't let that go. I swear, if you do this for me, I will PROMISE you that no one will find out, and.. and I'll give you anything you want. Just.. please. Don't leave me. I trust you more than I trust anyone else in this life."

  
Well, that was a stunningly uncharacteristic statement. Steve met his gaze head on and found nothing but honesty in James' eyes. After a few moments, he rubbed his temples, trying to think what could possibly be worth putting his whole life in danger. Then it hit him.

  
The promotion.

  
Steve looked up at James and smiled. "Alright then. I have three conditions for this whole thing. First thing, when we go to see my parents this weekend and completely and utterly break their trust in us both, I will be the one orchestrating the whole thing. I tell them what I need to tell them about you, you play the nice fiance, and I tell them about our engagement when I think it's appropriate."

  
"Done. What's the next condition?"

  
Steve smiled, looking off to the side before uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into his suit pants pockets casually. "You make me Editor."

  
James scoffed, meeting his gaze fully before shaking his head. "Impossible. Out of the question. I read your "manuscript"," James added, finger quoting the air before shaking his head. "You're not ready to be Editor yet. I'm sorry, but that's just not going to happen."

  
"Say yes, or I walk out now, James. You have five seconds to make your mind up." He said, looking down at his watch with an added flourish and loudly counting. "Five.. four... three.."

  
"OK!" James snapped, looking around at the crowds around them. Growling under his breath, he scrubbed his fingers through his perfectly styled hair and mussed up the black locks, making him look more wild and dangerous than ever. "Fine.. I'll make you editor. I can promise you a promotion in 6 months, no less. I have to move Armin out of the office and prepare the department for your promotion, but.. no more than six months."

  
"And 20,000 copy print of my manuscript, or no dice, James."

  
James threw his hands up and sighed. "FINE. 20,000. What's your final condition?"

  
Oh this one was going to be good. Steve grinned, rubbing his palms together before leaning forward. His voice pitched lower as if he was divulging the secrets of the Universe, and a wicked gleam flashed in his eyes. "Ask me nicely." The confused look he got was priceless. "Ask me to marry, you.. NICELY. And you better mean it."

  
James blinked, staring at Steve before laughing. "Ask you nicely.. what like.. on my knee?"

  
"Mhm."

  
The conflict on James' face was just delicious. Steve was eating this up now as he waited patiently for James to make up his mind. James hedged, looking around the sidewalk for a third time, as if expecting paparazzi to pop up and candidly shoot them both in such an awkward position. But finally, considering that this was the simplest (if not the most humiliating) part of Steve's conditions, he slumped his shoulders and rolled his eyes.

  
"Fine.. Fine. I'll get on my knee. Should I have a ring? I can get a ring."

  
"No, James you do it right now. I'm a simple guy, I don't need baubles to know your love." Steve laughed, beaming at him venomously.

  
James glared him down before muttering under his breath. Hiking his very expensive business slacks up and preparing to sully one knee with the dirt below, he dropped down to one knee before reaching into the collar of his shirt. Plucking out a chain with a simple gold band on it, he unlatched the chain and dropped the ring into his palm, staring at it for a moment. Sighing, he looked up at Steve and muttered, fast and petulant. "Steven, will you marry me."

  
"James.. that's pathetic. Try again, and this time with some conviction." Steve laughed, throwing his head back. This act only served to spurn James, who's cheeks flushed dark red against the usual contrast of his pale skin, and he dropped his gaze again. After a few moments, the Russian steeled himself and swallowed, looking up at Steve. This time, when Steve met his gaze, there was a slight shift in James' expression. It wasn't loving, but it was... sincere. Steve's laughter died right out as he met his gaze again, waiting.

James looked down at the ring in his palm again before plucking it up. Taking Steve's left hand, he carefully slipped the band around his ring finger. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, but nothing strangulating and he sighed, looking up at Steve as he opened his mouth to speak. "Steven Rogers... would you do me the honor of making me the happiest man on earth and being my husband?"

  
Steve swallowed. If the situation hadn't been so goddamn ridiculous, he would have felt slightly choked up at the true emotion in his words. But instead of letting his boss see that his words had actually had the intended effect this time he squared his jaw, letting his expression fall into a thoughtful wonder. After a moment he smiled down at him and nodded. "Sure I'll marry you." He looked down at the ring around his finger and smirked, shrugging a shoulder and tugging his hand out of James' grip. He brushed his palms off as if he'd touched something vile (which, in a way, he did) and stepped away from James. "Now get up. You're going to need to go shopping before we get on the plane tomorrow. I'm pretty sure all you own are Armani suits. Where we're going, you're going to need jeans, boots, flannels and comfortable clothing. Got it?"

  
James struggled to his feet. Clearly, expensive silk suit pants were not very flexible, and it took him longer than absolutely necessary to get to his feet again without tearing the cloth. Brushing his knees off, he canted a brow at Steve and chuckled. "Uh, ok Lumberjack Dan. Where are we going? Montana?"

  
"Nope. Sitka."

  
James blinked, staring at him long and hard before the words sank in fully and he scoffed. "Sitka.. ALASKA? Are you serious? I can't go to ALASKA for the weekend."

  
"Yeah, well, maybe you should have found that out before knuckling me into a business proposal, Mr. Barnes." Steve tossed over his shoulder, leaving him on the sidewalk. "I've got a seat in coach, but I'm pretty sure your connections can upgrade us both to first class on the flight tomorrow. I'll make sure to convert your skymiles for both of us." He looked back at the shocked Editor and grinned. "Don't look like such a Grumpy Gus. This is gonna be fun!"

  
~*~

  
Exactly 24 hours after their disastrous business proposal was struck, James and Steve sat side by side in first Class on Air Alaska, pointedly ignoring each other. James was thumbing through the Skymall catalog, trying not to even acknowledge that Steven breathed next to him. Steve, for his part, kept a cool demeanor as he tried not to let his jean-clad thigh brush against the expensive suit pant leg his boss was wearing. When questioned if he'd bought clothing appropriate for the trip, James' snappy response had been to the affirmative.. though Steve was pretty sure one pair of jeans in James' taste cost more than his whole wardrobe. Whatever.

  
Steve thumbed through the binder of questions Coulson had given them, a grin on his lips. "You know, James. You're kind of screwed for this interview, right?"

  
James looked up from his catalog and stared at Steve, his eyes narrowing. "I am never screwed. You don't make a professional out of yourself from RUSSIA at 20 years old if you're not smart enough to handle yourself. Please, this interview will be easy."

  
"Yeah, and this interview is all about important, INTIMATE questions about me. I mean I'm going to be perfectly fine. I've spent two years on your tail. I know all about you. But you know nothing about me. So, I'd put the damn catalog down.." he started, snatching the magazine from his hands and stuffing it into his front chair pocket. "And start getting to know me."

  
James glared at him and snatched the binder out of his hands, flipping through the questions. What he saw was impossible minute details that no one in their right mind would ever know about another human being in their lives and he laughed. "You're serious. You really know all this about me. That's ridiculous. NO ONE can possibly know this much information on a person."

  
"I hate to break the news to you, James, but NORMAL HUMAN BEINGS interact with others on a more personable level, rather than Slave driver to servant. I mean, honestly, what do you do in your spare time when you're not at work, feast on the souls of kittens?"

  
"You're hilarious." James deadpanned, looking down at the binder and picking a random question. "Ok, fine. Steven, what am I allergic to?"

  
"Soy nuts, and an unfortunate intolerance for certain wheat products. You'd better let me feed you this weekend, or else we're going to have a few embarrassing bathroom situations to explain away, aren't we? I hope you brought your brown pants."

  
"Oh my God, you're disgusting." James snapped, his face flushing dark red as he flipped the page and grinned. "Oh here's one. Do I have any scars or notable markings on my body?"

  
"You have a tattoo. Actually, I'm not entirely sure if that's true or not, but I seem to recall one late night work session with you. You had your suit jacket off as you were flipping through the files, and the light caught your left shoulder just right. I saw a splash of color through the white cloth. And your last Google search involved a tattoo removal procedure. Though I never saw you make an appointment in your book, so I can't be too sure what THAT was about."

  
James stared him down, his face carefully neutral again before he shut the binder with a huff and shoved it back at Steve. "We're done talking about that question. FOREVER. Fine, you want me to be all privy with these questions, I will be. We'll work on these questions over the weekend when your parents and Aunt aren't looking at us. How much further do we have to go?"

  
Steve glanced down at his watch and smiled. "We've only been in the air for an hour. It's a 7 hour flight, James."

  
"Christ, where the hell do you neolithic cavemen live?" James asked, looking at him in surprise.

  
"ALASKA." Steve ground out, gritting his teeth. "And I didn't live there all my life. I was born in Brooklyn. My parents bought the house in Sitka when I was 10 years old. We didn't officially move out there until I was 12, before that it was just a summer home. I moved back to New York to go to school and find my way on my own when I was 19 years old. My parents stayed in Alaska. So unfortunately for ME, the last time I saw my parents was two years ago.. right before I started working for you."

  
James figured that last statement was supposed to be a jab at his work ethics, but his brushed it off and sighed. "Ok, fine, but I swear to God if I'm attacked by any moose, our deal is off."

  
"You're not going to get attack by.. Oh my God, James. Just stop whining and work on these questions with me. We've got six hours on this plane to go and if I have to listen to you bitch about this anymore, I'm gonna chuck you out of the emergency exit."

  
"Then you go to federal prison for murder?"

  
"I'm going to federal prison anyway, if this thing goes tits up." Steve sighed, rubbing his temples before grabbing the binder and flipping to the first page. "Question one... where do you and I spend most of our time, together?"

  
"Easy. My apartment. I can't imagine there's much money left after your parents moved up north like that to bumfuck nowhere. My place is much more preferable to whatever little hovel I'm sure you live in."

  
Steve felt the muscle in his jaw tick as he tried, so.. SO HARD, to refrain from punching his boss square in the nose. Exhaling through his nose he sighed and closed his eyes. "Fine. Your place. Question two. How did you inform your families of this engagement?"

  
James stiffened next to Steve and quickly averted his gaze to the floor. His fingertips dug into his knees as he pointedly refused to speak for a moment. After a tick, he glanced up at Steve and offered him his trademark Ken doll smile. "Well we're telling your family this weekend. Duh. That's a stupid question." Evasive. Just like his tactic.

  
Steve shrugged. "Ok, but what about your parents? I'm sure they'd like to know, since they're you know.. all the way on the other side of the world."

  
"Yeah, the other side of the world and six feet under." James muttered, averting his gaze again.

  
Wow. Steve was not expecting that answer. "... What? You're parents are dead?"

  
"Yep. Dead going on ten years now. Grandparents too. Anyone else I could call blood relatives has very little-and I mean nothing- to do with me anymore. So when I say I'm proud of coming to this country and making a name for myself... I fucking mean it." James murmured, tone deadened of all inflection. He sighed, looking up at Steve. For the second time in 24 hours, James offered his assistant the most sincere expression Steve had ever seen on another person's face, and instantly his chest filled with guilt.

  
"I'm sorry.. I.. I didn't know."

  
"Yeah, well, no one really knows. No point in dwelling on it. It's been a decade since I lost them. Crying over spilled milk and all that." he waved his hand noncommittally and kept his gaze purposefully on the window. Past the plastic shield, clouds whipped past the two of them in cotton candy wisps and James swallowed, sort of wishing he could move seats now. He didn't like talking about his family and his past. Ever. And there, Steve had to go and be a good fiance and ask about them. Goddammit.

  
Steve stammered, looking down at the binder in his hands before closing it for the time being. James didn't look like he was ready to move onto any other questions. They had six hours.. they could come back to it, when James was feeling his usual, prickly self again. The two sat next to each other in silence now, neither of them touching or speaking.

  
Though surprisingly, with one barrier taken down between them, it wasn't quite as uncomfortable as it should have been.


	3. Welcome to Sitka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and James arrive in Sitka to a welcome party. James meets Steve's family and a morning run has a few eye opening moments for the Editor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why I made Bucky gluten-intolerant. It was the only food allergy I could really think of besides eggs, and it sort of stuck. Besides, who else could fit so wonderfully into a pair of jogging pants, if they can't eat gluten, right?
> 
> And yes. Clint and Bruce are the town stoners, a la Jay and Silent bob. I couldn't resist. :D

Whatever sort of understanding Steve had for James was quickly trounced the moment their plane landed in Juneau. Confused at their location, James had demanded to know what the hell was going on, crossing his arms over his chest to ward off any cold air that touched him.

  
"Steven, what is the meaning of this?" James demanded, grumbling ferociously as his shoulders shivered in the cool breeze. He had the right idea, packing a coat for the trip, but the lack of foresight to actually bring the damn thing onto the plane had simply eluded him. And nearly 5 years in the United States had spoiled him for the comforts of temperate climate.

  
Steve stifled a laugh, feigning a yawn as he gestured over his shoulder. "This is Juneau."

  
"Yeah, no shit Sherlock. Why are we HERE? I thought we were going to Sitka." James snapped, grabbing his suitcase from the cargo hold beneath. "And there's a perfectly good airport over there, why the fuck are we unloading out HERE?"

  
Steve sighed, rubbing his palm over his face before shrugging out of his coat and shoving it into James' arms. "You see that little plane over there?" he asked, gesturing at the tarmac to where a tiny little hopper plane sat. "That's going to take us the rest of the way."

  
James glanced over his shoulder as he shrugged into the thicker coat. His eyes blew comically wide as he stared at the little tin-can masquerading as an airplane and fiercely shook his head. "HELL no. I'm not getting on that, it looks like the wings are glued on. No way."

  
"Well, that's too damn bad then because Sitka is too SMALL to have a luxury airport to accommodate your ass. I mean if you're really gonna be a bitch we're already halfway there, why don't we just fly the rest of the way to Russia, call the whole thing off and finally be DONE with this whole charade."

  
James glared at Steve before throwing his hands up again and grabbing his suitcase. "Oh for Fuck's sake. This weekend is going to kill me." he groused, stomping off across the tarmac and leaving Steve behind.

  
"Yeah, you and me both.." Steve grumbled, shouldering his own duffel and following suit.

  
It took the crew about twenty minutes to load everyone and their luggage into the plane. Sardines in a can did NOTHING to describe how tightly packed everyone was. Steve and James found themselves crammed next to each other, bitching mercilessly at one another before the pilot finally announce that they were ready to take off.

  
And what a rough take off it was. The entire plane shuddered with gaining velocity and James found himself clutching the seat in front of him in a white knuckled grip as he tried desperately not to look out the window. He felt a little sick with the jarring motions but kept his jaws clamped shut as he inhaled through his nose to ward off the anxiety of it all. Steve, the shit that he was, stayed perfectly relaxed as he watched the ground leave them behind.

  
"How long of a flight is this?" James asked through clenched teeth, jarring suddenly as the plane hit a bout of turbulence and nearly pitched him onto the floor of the plane.

  
"It's about 40 minutes. Just relax." Steve murmured, glancing out the window to stare down at the landscape sprawling around them. A small smile touched his lips as he soaked in the sights he hadn't had the luxury of seeing in over two years.

  
"Yeah, says you."

  
Steve frowned, looking out the window again before reaching over. His hand touched James' for a moment and he spoke slowly. "I mean it, relax. You're gonna puke if you keep yourself so tense." As they passed a mountain, Steve smiled, tugging on James' sleeve to get him to look over. "Look out the window."

  
It took a few moments for James to summon the courage to look over but when he did, the difference was near instant. His arms relaxed and his face went slack in surprise as he looked down at the landscape. It was stunningly beautiful, and the awe of it all showed on his features. James looked out the window at the mountains, white capped and serene, leaning over Steve's lap to look out at the view. "Wow."

  
"Yeah.. wow is right." Steve grinned, leaning back a little to let James get a good look. James had been so preoccupied with not looking at Steve during their 7 hours in the air, or glaring down at the sheets of questions in their binder, he'd missed most of the environment previously. Now, without the book, he could have a pretty decent appreciation for what he was seeing. If Steve wasn't mistaken, the smile that touched his boss' lips was real.

  
Neither of them spoke for the remainder of the flight. James spent the next 38 minutes leaning over Steve's lap to soak up the view while Steve stayed perfectly still so as not to startle him. When they finally touched down James was almost completely relaxed as they filed out of the plane in one piece, and went to retrieve their luggage. He'd given Steve his coat back and fished his own out from the suitcase, muttering a hurried "thank you" to the other in hopes that Steve would miss his one brief moment of gratitude. Steve did.

  
As the two of them unloaded their things, Steve caught the sound of someone shouting his name. Turning, he spotted a group of people holding up posters with "Welcome home Steve!" painted across them, and his eyes grew wide. "Holy shit!" he laughed, jumping up and down to wave at them. The cheers he got were unmistakable, and James looked up in confusion, until he spotted the crowd calling to them.

  
"Is that your family?" he asked, zipping up his coat.

  
"No, those are my friends." Steve replied, all grins as he waved to them.

  
James glanced over the crowd and frowned. "Looks like half the town to me."

  
"Yeah well, we're a pretty small location. Practically everyone is friends or related in someway."

  
James grimaced. "Hmm I'm sure that's beneficial to the gene pool."

  
Steve rolled his eyes and turned to face James. "And quips like that are really not going to fit in around here." Straightening his coat, he shouldered his duffel again and inhaled. "Alright.. show's on. Hold my hand so it looks like we don't completely despise each other."

"I'm not holding your hand, Steven."

  
"And THAT'S why this whole thing isn't going to work." Steve snarled, glaring down at him before holding his hand out. "If you wanna stay in America. Hold. My. Hand."

  
James challenged him with a glare for a moment before he deflated and took his hand, gripping his suitcase handle in his free fist. "Jesus Christ, fine..."

  
The two of them held their hands, the grip gradually tightening until it was uncomfortable before making their way to the fenced off yard of the airport. Steve was all smiles as they approached the group and when they were within an acceptable distance, he let go and opened his arms wide to them.

  
There was a flurry of motion as the crowd rushed for Steve. A bright red flash launched towards him as a small woman wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tightly. Behind the girl, a sandy haired man in an obnoxiously bright purple coat swaggered over clapping his friend into a hug. Following suit was a man dressed in flip flops and a green and black hemp sweatshirt, a pretty brunette almost as tall as Steve, and a handsome black man with short cropped hair and a tiny little space between his front teeth that showed with his huge grin.

  
James hung back from the crowd, standing awkwardly as he watched the group reunite for the first time in two years. His fingers twitched in his coat pocket, lip pressed between his teeth as he tried to summon up some sort of emotion that was less "Grinch" and more welcoming. He wasn't doing so hot.

  
"STEVIE, oh my God we missed you!" The brunette cheered, wrapping her arms around his neck and pecking Steve on the cheek.

  
"Yeah I missed you too, Maria. Everyone. It's so damn good to be back." Steve smiled, taking his time to hug each of his friends. "What are you all doing here, I thought my parents were supposed to be picking us up?"

  
The black man stepped up (James quickly learned his name was Sam) and grinned, thumbing over his shoulder in a vague direction opposite the airport. "Your folks are back at your house, starting to set up for the party tomorrow, dude."

  
Steve blinked, looking back at James before frowning. "Party? What party?"

  
"Woo, bro, I think you just spoiled the surprise." The purple-clad man crooned, his voice dragging low and sluggish. James picked up pretty much almost instantly that the man was probably high as a kite, and from the look of the Jolly Green Giant, so was he. Great, just what he needed right before his immigration hearing. To be surrounded by a couple of people so far down the rabbit hole it probably leeched out of their skin.

  
"Clint, are you serious? They're throwing a party?" Steve groaned, rubbing his forehead before looking helplessly back at James.

  
"Yep. Big ol' fuckin' shindig tomorrow afternoon. The whole town's been invited. They really want to show off your new fiancé to everyone." Clint replied.

  
"Speaking of which, why is he standing off to the side like that?" The red head asked, glancing over at James and lofting a curious brow at him.

  
Steve smiled (tried to actually), and gestured for James to come over. "James, c'mere come meet my friends." He said gesturing with his head for James to step forward.

  
James did as he was told, slapping on the only smile he could muster without it looking fake, and flashed them all a million-watt business smirk as he sauntered up to them and extended his hand to the red-head. "Hi, I'm James. And you are..."

  
"Natalia. Natasha. Whatever you wanna call. I have like three names." she said, shaking his hand and letting her eyes bore into him for a moment. Of all the business proposals and judging gazes he'd received in his life, James actually felt the most intimidated by this petite little firecracker's stern glare.

  
James was then introduced to the others (Bruce, Sam, Maria, Clint) in turn, and he smiled leaning back on his heels. "This place is lovely, I must admit."

  
"Never been to Alaska before, James?" Maria asked. She looped arms with Sam, the two of them leaning together. Bruce took the moment to bend down and pick up James' suitcase, hefting it onto his shoulder with ease despite the weight of it. The group finally left the airport behind, heading to a collection of trucks. They filed in together, and once again James and Steve found themselves squashed together, this time in the back seat of an SUV.

  
"So where's Tony?" Steve asked, strapping himself in as Sam crawled into the driver's seat and started up the engine. It spluttered and spat for a moment before roaring to life, the engine causing the whole truck to shake.

  
"Ah, he's back in town getting things ready for tomorrow. You know him, it ain't a party until it's a Stark party."

  
James frowned, looking out the window at the heavily wooded surroundings. He actually felt a little hot around the collar, with so many people piled into the truck, and he unzipped the coat, shrugging out of it to revel in the breezy cloth of his silk suit.

  
"Whoo, Mr. Moneybags, are you like rich or something?" Bruce asked, grinning down at him as he reached out a casual hand and plucked the front of James' tie. James snatched his tie away from him and smoothed the delicate material back down before offering up the man (dear God, he smelled of hash like no one's business) a forced smile.

  
"Uh no. Actually, I'm a businessman. Chief Editor of Pierce Publishing."

  
"Cool. I own a shop up here. The Banner. 'Cause that's my last name. I sell clothes, meditation and yoga supplies, and other paraphernalia." He said, leaning back in his seat to smile down at him.

  
James felt his smile crack a little as he nodded. "Uh huh. Grass is abundant up here isn't it?" he asked, feeling Steve elbow him in the ribs. However, Bruce only laughed, letting his head thump into the side of the door.

  
"Damn right. I specialize in meditation and yoga therapy. Gets kinda stressful living up here. Decided to delve into it when my doc diagnosed me with Anger management issues. Haven't had a problem since."

  
"You just like to share for the class, don't you?" James asked, feeling Steve elbow his ribs a little harder. He shot him a glare that clearly read "We're talking when we get someplace private". The remainder of the ride went about the same. James learned that Clint was a professional archer and worked in a butcher shop that sold the best venison this side of the continent. Natasha was the deputy of the town sheriff, Maria worked in Town Hall taking care of legal records of Sitka, and Sam was ex-military that had been stationed outside of Nome and moved to Sitka after his term was up. Tony, who was absent, was the son of the town mayor, Howard Stark, and pretty much spent his days doing as he pleased, though he did like to volunteer his time at Town Hall, helping run the place.

  
As they drove through town, James felt himself losing touch with the conversations as his eyes skimmed the buildings they passed in a jet-lagged sort of disinterest. But as he did he noticed a pattern, one that made him grit his teeth slightly in surprise.

  
Rogers Post and Parcel.

  
Rogers Pharmacy.

  
Rogers Diner and Ice Cream parlor.

  
Rogers fucking EVERYTHING.

  
James stared at the buildings, plucked right out of a quaint little hometown novel, and glanced at Steve pointedly. Steve, for his part was doing his best to not meet his gaze at all, his jaw tense as he stared at the buildings he passed.

  
After a few moments, the trucks turned off the main road of town square and headed up into the woods, the road becoming rougher and bumpier as they left pavement for dug out paths. James glanced at the woods around them, the temperature dropping drastically as they left the sun's rays, and he sighed.

  
"I feel like I'm in an episode of Fargo." he sighed, glancing down at his lap as the exhaustion of the whole trip finally caught up with him. Thank God it was already 7pm. No one could fault him if he wanted to just curl up in bed and die for the rest of the evening. At least he wouldn't have to socialize with anyone for the first 7 or so hours. That only left four more days to deal with them all. He could handle that.

  
"Don't worry, we're a friendly little town." Maria said, looking over her shoulder at him before winking. "At least, we haven't found any bodies lying around lately. Cohen hasn't made an example of us yet."

  
That clearly did not settle James' nerves as he offered her a weak smile. The rest of the car ride fell silent as they finally breached the hill in the woods and crossed over to the other side of the tree line. James' eyes popped wide open and his jaw fell slack, staring at the huge manor tucked into the side of a mountain and surrounded by trees. "Holy crap. Who the hell are you guys?" He asked, looking up at Steve.

 

Steve, for his part, did a pretty good job of not looking at him.

  
When the tiny caravan finally parked outside the house, the five of them filed out to meet up with Natasha and Clint, who'd ridden in the pick-up. The main group started chattering to each other before dispersing to their own vehicles to head home for the night.

  
"Call if you need any help, Steve." Sam offered, clapping his friend on the shoulder before wrapping his arm around Maria's waist and smiling.

  
"Will do, Sam. Thank you for coming to get us." Steve murmured, yanking his friend into a hug before grabbing his duffel and wrapping his arm around James' shoulders. The two of them headed into the house, doing their level best to look like they were cuddled up without actually touching.

  
"OK OK, we're in the clear, stop touching me." James snapped, pulling away from Steve, the moment they were alone in the hallway. He shrugged out of his coat and hung it up, looking down at his rumpled suit and sighing. "This has been a horribly long day. You seriously enjoy tripping up here, after a flight like that? Hell I only ever had to do it once coming from St. Petersburg and that messed with me for days."

  
"At least you only crossed two timezones this time. A good night's sleep will do you wonders. And tomorrow you BETTER be on your best behavior, or people are gonna suspect." Steve murmured, hooking his own coat and picking up his bag. "Let's go say hi to the parents and then we'll sleep."

  
"STEVIE?!" A voice shouted, high and excited. The two of them jumped as a blur of blond hair and a bright red apron flew into the room. The woman, about 50 years old, swooped in and pulled Steve into a tight hug. She was thin, petite and very short. James vaguely wondered how the hell she'd managed to mother Steve, who looked like he could rival a linebacker on his worst days, and Goliath at his best. "OH STEVIE I MISSED YOU SO MUCH, MY BABY BOY!" She squealed, leaning up and kissing her son on the cheek.

  
Once again, James stood awkwardly to the side as he watched mother and son hugging tightly to each other. His face, however, fell into another unreadable expression as he watched them both, his fingers curling into loose fists at his sides. Seriously, these touching reunions were starting to get to be a bit much for him.

  
"Hi mom. Oh God, you're crushing me, stop it!" Steve laughed. James snorted at his side. Sarah, as he'd learned her name was on the plane ride over, looked like she could barely hurt a fly, let alone crush her son.

  
"Oh my goodness, where are my manners?" Sarah asked, brushing her apron down and turning to smile at James. James reeled back slightly. Steve was a spitting image of his mother, despite the size difference. Now despite his seeming distaste for his assistant, James could not begrudge the fact that Steve was a stunningly handsome man with perfect proportions in every way. Sarah was beautiful. So beautiful she radiated with bright yellow hair and shining blue eyes just like her son. Even the slight smudge of flour on her cheek made her look even more gorgeous, and he found himself offering her a genuine smile.

  
"Mrs. Rogers, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is James." he said, extending his hand to her. He was surprised when she refused to take it. Instead, she threw her arms around his neck and yanked him into an emphatic hug. James froze, his eyes bugged wide as he looked up at Steve helplessly. But as Sarah hung onto him he melted gradually, pulling her into a hug that was just shy of warm, but nicely parked right in the friendly zone.

  
"None of that professionalism, Steve told me all about you. You're family now, and family runs deeper than handshakes, dear." Sarah said beaming up at him before patting his cheek with her cool palm. "Let me go get Joe, he'll be happy to meet you!" And with that she flounced off from the foyer calling for her husband.

  
Steve grinned at James and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah. She's always like that."

  
James, for his part, stared after her in surprise, his face slack of all emotion before he turned his gaze back to Steve. "That was.. not what I was expecting." Clearing his throat, he picked up his suitcase and rolled his shoulders, stifling a yawn and scrubbing his fingers through his long since mussed up hair. "Think they'll mind if I just sleep right after I meet your father? I'm kinda beat."

  
"Nah." Steve shrugged, looking over James' shoulder to smile at his approaching parents. "They know it's rough. If you're not hungry I'll just show you up to the guest room. I could sleep too."

  
For once, the two actually agreed on something.

~*~

  
After a few awkward moments of trying to figure out how to sleep while the sun was still up ("Seriously, Steve, the sun NEVER SETS?"), James and Steve both fell into a deep slumber. James had quickly commandeered the large bed, while Steve curled up on the floor next to him. James was shocked to find that Steve actually volunteered to sleep on the floor. Being as close as they were, if he needed to scoot into the bed to paint the illusion of their sleeping TOGETHER for their family, he could easily do so.

  
Twelve solid hours later, James finally roused from his coma, sitting bolt upright in the bed to look around the rustic bedroom in confusion. Everything around him screamed "Cabin" or "backwoods frontier" and he felt a little uncomfortable, unused to things that weren't shiny chrome and minimalistic contemporary. But as he looked around the room, his shoulders slumped in relaxation and he found himself actually amused by the quaintness of it all.

  
The sound of snoring to his left had him looking over the bed. Steve was sprawled on the floor, arms spread eagle and his hair sticking up from rubbing into the pillow. His mouth hung open just slightly and a tiny drop of drool sat at the corner of his mouth. James grinned, wondering if he could snap a picture of it with his phone to further blackmail him, but found that the sight was just too damn adorable to disturb.

  
Wait. Adorable? The hell? James didn't find ANYTHING adorable. Ever. It must have been the clear Alaskan air messing with his head. Shaking himself, James slipped from the blankets, bare feet touching the cold wooden floor as he dug into his suitcase for his running clothes. He slipped into the bathroom and tugged his long-sleeve shirt over his head, balling it up and wriggling out of his basketball shorts. He pulled his compression pants on, followed by a t-shirt, thin running jacket, and expertly laced his shoes, all in under five minutes. He slipped his phone into his pocket, unraveled his earbuds and slipped from the room on silent feet, leaving Steve sleeping on the floor of the bedroom. He did have the courtesy to close the door, however, which would force someone to knock and rouse Steve before they found him. James stepped out of the house into the crisp early morning air, inhaling deeply as he screwed his earbuds into his ears and pulled up his playlist. And with that, he took off down the lane, heading for a long morning jog in the woods.

  
He couldn't help but marvel at the scenery, the speckles of sunlight filtering in through the leaves and illuminating his path as he ran. Running. That's when he felt most free, most calm. Puffing on cold air, he curled his fingers into tight fists to keep the chilly nip from turning them red, his breath ghosting in front of him in feathery puffs. A huge smile crossed his lips as the musical interludes of the latest pop hits filled his ears and spurred him on.

  
After a couple of hours, James slowed to a halt on the path, pushing a hand through his slightly sweaty hair as he puffed for breath. "Phew.. this air.. is.. NOT good for my lungs." He panted, grinning to himself before chuckling. "Actually this is probably what it's like to breath real air not... not smog, and why am I talking to myself." He murmured pressing his palms into his knees. Oh right. He always talked to himself. It wasn't like he had anyone in his personal life he could hold real conversations with. The closest he ever got was barking orders to his employees and scaring small children. Right. Don't forget that.

  
As he took a few moments to collect himself, the sound of twigs snapping to his left had him looking up at the woods. Breath slowing finally, he looked into the trees and frowned. "Hello?" he called, looking at the brush. Slightly to his 9 o'clock, the foliage rustled again and shifted. Frowning, he straightened up and peered into the tree line.

  
That was when the wolf decided to step out.

  
James felt his heart plummet into his stomach as he stared at the wolf. The wolf stared back at him. His pulse picked up pace and his lungs heaved for breath as panic started to set in. "Whoa.. whoa doggie..." he coaxed, holding his hands up slowly as to placate the wolf from coming closer. Instead of doing as he intended, the wolf approached, it's mouth hanging open and stared at James. Jesus Christ the thing was HUGE. The shoulder was as high as his waist, and James was not a short man. The paws on that thing, they were practically snowshoes. And the teeth. Oh God.

  
James inched back slightly, staring at the thing for a moment before a nervous smile crossed his lips. He was already tired from his run, but dammit if he had to he was going to book it. "Just.. just stay back. You don't want me. I'm rotten meat, dog. Wolf. Don't come any closer." The wolf seemed to have other thoughts in mind. The sable colored canine lurched forward with a deep chested growl. 

  
James screamed and ran.

  
Turning on his tail, he bolted back down the path he'd come from, wondering how far he was from the house. Probably pretty damn far. 'Run, run like you've never run in your life! Run like there is a wolf behind you, OHGODTHERE'SAWOLFBEHINDYOU' his mind helpfully supplied to him as he shrieked again and sprinted down the lane. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the wolf on his tail, long loping strides that almost had it catching up to him. James put on an extra burst of speed, pulling ahead of the wolf. As he ran, he spotted the roof of the house just through the trees. While that direction was closer, it was also through thick trees and brush, and he was pretty sure the wolf was much more adept at navigating the woods than he was. However, the path he'd taken was long and roundabout, and if he tried to stay on that, he'd run out of energy and be overtaken before he even made it halfway back to the house.

  
Deciding to take his chances, James vaulted over a log and took to the trees. Shoving and pushing his way through the brush and branches, he felt the twigs and snares catching his cloths, one twig snapped across his cheek just below his eye, and he tripped more times than he could count. However, when he looked back, it was with triumph to see that the wolf had actually slowed down some. God dammit he was exhausted. He bolted through the trees, feeling his energy waning as he tried to weave to the less densely populated areas of shrubbery and branches. After a good ten minutes of weaving and bobbing, he finally broke the tree line. Dammit, the house was still too far away, and now with the wolf in the open too, he was surely dead meat.

  
Screaming at the top of his lungs, he hoped someone was awake as he sprinted for the house. However, his energy was almost spent, and was quickly apparent as the wolf rounded and stopped before him, mouth hanging open in a gaping maw. James skidded to a half, bobbing backwards, trying to zigzag his way around the wolf. That did little good, as the wolf kept pace with him, jumping and leaping in front of him, growls and huffs and snarls leaving it, snapping at the air before him.

  
James uttered an exhausted wail, turning to run in the opposite direction of the house. But dammit, again, the wolf was in front of him. "HELP! HELP!" he called, wondering what his obituary would say about his death. Mauled to death by wolf on an impossible escapade for illegal citizenship. Classy.

  
Meanwhile inside the house, Sarah stood at the bay window looking out to the woods as she sipped a cup of coffee. She smiled to herself as she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, enjoying the quiet morning. She caught the sound of footsteps behind her, and looked up to see Steve, still sleep ruffled and clutching a cup of coffee. "Where's James?" she asked, smiling at him before leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

  
Steve shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. "I dunno, but his running shoes are missing from his suitcase. Must be out for a jog." he murmured, glancing down at her. "So why didn't you tell me that you and dad were throwing a party for us?"

  
Sarah beamed, shaking her head. "I assume Sam spilled the beans huh? I'll have to tell Winnie her son has a lip button loose again." she giggled, looking out over nature sprawling before them. "We wanted to give James a proper welcome. Since we've only heard.. you know.. such things about him, the surprise that you two fell in love, well that must be a powerful love then. We wanted to welcome it into our family as properly as possible."

  
Steve hummed, taking another sip as he looked out over the massive yard just beyond the tree line. But as he did, he spotted a body bursting out from the trees, followed by a massive white blur.

  
"Oh look at that, James found Cap!" Sarah cooed, smiling as the two of them watched James and Cap running and dancing around each other. "Look at the two of them, aren't' they cute playing together?" The two of them laughed and giggled as they watched what they assumed was play. But the moment Cap suddenly lunged and tackled him to the ground, James shrieked in abject terror, thrashing beneath him. Steve gasped, nearly dropping his coffee cup as he realized what exactly was going on.

  
"Oh. Oh my, he's not playing." Sarah gasped, looking surprised as Steve bolted from the house.

  
The blond ran over to where James was curled up on the ground in the fetal position, screaming his head off. Shoving his fingers into his mouth, Steve gave a sharp whistle. That caught Cap's attention as the wolf looked up, ears perking forward. The creature growled deep in its chest again, and with an almost puppy like yap, bounded off of James and ran over to Steve, tail wagging like a sail behind him. "HEY Cap! Come here, good boy! Good boy!" Steve coaxed, grinning wildly as the wolf bounded over and leaped up, easily resting its paws on his shoulders to lick his face.

  
James didn't know what the fuck happened. First he was tackled to the ground and almost mauled to death. Next, the wolf was acting like a goddamn drooling Labrador and slobbering all over Steve. He sat up, panting raggedly before shouting at Steve. "The fuck are you doing, that thing's gonna EAT YOU!" he shouted, getting wobbly to his feet and running over to try and pull the wolf off of him.

  
Instead, Steve threw his hand out and grinned at James, letting the wolf continue to lick his face. "Relax, James. He belongs to me. Well, to the family, but he's my best bud ever. Ain't you, big boy?" he said by way of explanation, looking down at him and baby-talking him. "This is Cap. Cap, say hi to James!"

  
James, for his part, stared at Steve with shock on his features before he suddenly slumped to the ground in exhaustion, panting heavily as he splayed across the grass. "Jesus.. Jesus fuck, I thought it was going to eat me. The fuck, why didn't you tell me you have a WOLF for a big dumb slobbering couch mutt?" He said, glaring up at Steve before letting his head thump against the ground.

  
Steve just laughed, pushing Cap down before bending over to help James to his feet. "He's not a full wolf. He's a hybrid. And yes, it's OK to have one of those around here. As for why I didn't tell you, I didn't realize that they'd let him out to roam the area this morning. When we got in last night, I was so tired, I forgot to tell you about him."

  
"Oh so he's HALF WOLF. HALF WILD ANIMAL. Oh lovely, what do you do if you forget to FEED HIM. Hide in the basement until the full moon is over?!" James gasped, shoving his hand into his now very sweaty hair to push the short bangs out of his face.

  
"Oh relax, he's harmless. He just really likes to play. Besides, you're kind of wearing highlighter yellow. If you didn't want to be a running dinner bell, you should have worn something darker." Steve snorted, looking at his boss for a moment before glancing up at the window. His mother, and now father, were watching them both, grinning and leaning into each other's sides. "They're watching us. Hug me."

  
James glared at him, trying to shove his hands away. "No I'm not hugging you, you almost scared the shit out of me by proxy."

  
"James, hug me or they're gonna think we're fighting."

  
"We ARE fighting!"

  
Steve rolled his eyes and yanked James into a full bear hug, pressing his chin into James' shoulder. "There we go. That's good." he murmured, glancing out of the corner of his eye to see his parents smiling and cooing at them both. He rubbed his hands down James' rigid back, trying to soothe him and give the illusion of comfort. "There we go. Wrap your arms around me. Hug me back James. They're watching us."

  
James sighed, letting his head fall back a little as he stiffly wrapped his arms around Steve's back. He let his fingers run over the planes of his muscled shoulders for a moment, helping to paint the illusion. He tried not to focus on how nice those shoulders felt, and instead focus on his irritation at Steve.

  
But when he felt a hand snake down and cup his left asscheek, he tensed again, digging his fingernails into Steve's shoulders with a sharp bite. "Steve.. what the fuck are you doing?"

  
Steve shrugged, glancing up to see that his parents were still watching them. How awkward... "Uhm... Solidifying the illusion of our intimacy. Because, they're STILL watching us." he answered. 

  
"Uh huh..."

  
They stood like that for a few beats too long, and when Steve added insult to injury by patting his ass, James growled. "Steve. Touch my ass again, and I will castrate you with a rusty spoon." he hissed, unable to break free as Steve's arm was still wrapped around his waist.

  
Steve immediately let go and beamed down at him, speaking through gritted teeth. "My parents are very touchy-feely people. If we're not displaying the right ratio of PDA to politeness, they start wondering what's wrong. Besides." said, making a show of looking all over James' body and letting his eyes linger on his tightly clothed legs and ass. "You fill out those running pants pretty damn nicely. I gotta keep my man-card for my dad, right?"

James smiled at him, a sarcastic cheese of a grin before nodding. "Oh. OK then. Good." he said, reaching up and cupping Steve's cheek to pat him. One, two.. then a sharp slap, pulled just at the right time to hide the strength behind it, James leaned forward slightly. "Don't get any ideas, Casanova."

  
Steve flinched, feeling the sting of the slap against the cold air. He nodded at him, still smiling brightly. "This is going to be a long weekend, isn't it?"

  
"Oh yes it is." James replied over his shoulder as he reached down to grab his phone. Only when he did, he felt an empty space where his pocket was. He started frantically patting himself down looking around the ground. "Oh no. Oh no. Where's my phone?!" he gasped, starting to run around the yard looking for it. "Shit shit SHIT! I lost my phone!"

  
Steve looked over, noting that Cap began to follow James around, wagging his tail as the Editor began to search desperately for his phone. "Where did you run from?" He asked, following after him to help look for the phone. His sharp eyes scanned the ground around them, trying to pick up the bright and shining case of the expensive device.

  
"I was on the running path, and then Balto here decided to chase me through the woods!" he growled, gripping his hair at the root as he huffed. "Jesus fuck, that had all my contacts in it, all my meetings, my schedules my files! Fuck!"

  
Steve held his hands out to him, coaxing his boss to relax. "James. Listen to me. I'm your assistant for a reason. While you're busy running the hordes of Mordor, I'm a much better organizer than you. I set that phone to back up every day to the Cloud. We'll go into town and order you another one, next day shipping, and we'll port everything back into it."

  
James looked up at Steve, his eyes wide in surprise and gratitude. "Really? We can do that?" He asked, exhaling loudly as he smiled. "Thank you. Thank you, so much."

  
Steve, for the third time that month, was stunned by James' reaction. He never said thank you. Ever. He found himself smiling a little before gesturing to the house with his head. "C'mon, we'll go order the phone, and mom made cinnamon rolls. Yes, I made sure that they were gluten free, just like the ones you keep making me buy you with your coffee, OK?"

  
James' shoulders slumped as he looked up at Steve, wondering just how in the Hell one man was capable of being so driven and organized. James was so focused on his work most of the time, he barely ate. Steve could literally run an entire office building beneath him, and keep his life affairs in order, AND maintain family contact. It was a marvel.

  
As James followed Steve back to the house with promises of cinnamon and a hot shower, he felt somewhat small and undeserving of the assistance of such a well-organized and.. frankly, incredible man; a man that hated his guts. Even despite that bone deep hatred James knew Steve harbored for him, he did more for James in his two years of working in America, than anyone had ever done for him in his life since his parents' deaths. James did owe him a lot, and made a mental note to demonstrate his appreciation for him and try not to bite his head off at every chance. He needed to be nicer to Steve, at least for this weekend...

  
Even if he did drive him up the fucking wall. Yeah, that's right. He drove him up the fucking wall...

* * *

Author's Note: So I decided that Steve would, of course, have a wolf hybrid as a pet, considering they live in Alaska. Here's what I picture Cap to look like. The black wolf is the size I imagine Cap to be:

While this is the coloring I imagined for him: 

 

as for James' running attire, yeah.. he's kind of a running neon light that says "EAT ME WILDERNESS." Silly City boy.

 

Though Steve's right. He does look delicious in those running pants. ;D

 


	4. Party Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Steve head to the party planned especially for their engagement. James meets Peggy Carter and earns his nickname. And after a surprising twist of events, they realize they may or may not actually hate each other as much as they think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me longer to post this chapter than the others, I was detained last night and could not post it. Unbeta'd again, so all mistakes are mine.

After a breakfast of coffee, cinnamon and teasing, James and Steve found themselves a bit out of sorts and harboring some downtime. With the cat out of the bag about the party that Friday evening, Sarah and Joe had no reason to keep their son and his fiancé occupied while everyone snuck into the Town's auditorium to set up for the party. Therefore, that left an entire afternoon to the two of them to do as they pleased.

  
True to his own intentions, James behaved himself like a perfect angel around the soon to be in-laws, much to Steve's utter relief. Breakfast went by without a single argument between the two of them. Cap lay under the kitchen table like a massive furry lump chewing on a rawhide, and Sarah ended up crying over a cup of coffee at the thought that she may get adoptive grandchildren out of the two of them in the near future. God only knew where she'd even gotten that idea from, considering Steve and James never uttered a syllable about that. It took Steve about five minutes to get his mother to calm down while beside him, James found Joe clapping him on the shoulder and preaching about how much happier Steve was since the last time he saw him.

  
'You have NO idea, man..' James thought to himself, offering him up a small smile.

  
"I'm so sorry." Sarah chuckled, wiping her eyes off daintily with a napkin before beaming up at the two of them. "Look at me being an emotional little ninny. Go, go, you two should have fun today. We'll see you at the party this afternoon. 2 pm, don't be late! Can't have the two guests of honor missing their own party." Standing from her chair, she shooed them out of the kitchen with a flick of her hand towel, laughing as the two larger men beat a hasty retreat. As she watched them go, she felt Joe slip up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist. "They look so happy don't they?"

  
"Mhm." Joe murmured, pressing a kiss to her ear before canting his head a little curiously. "Though, I'm surprised to see that James isn't quite as high strung as Steve described him to be. There's still something about him, though..."

  
"Oh, stop it, Joe! Don't get any ideas on trying to dissuade Steve from being with him. I know you want him to come back home for good and help run the town businesses, but he's HAPPY where he's at. I just wish he could visit more often." Sarah sighed, gazing at the empty doorway as if waiting to see the other two approach again.

  
Joe frowned, staring the doorway for a moment as well before nodding. "I understand, baby. I won't say another word about it." he murmured, pressing a kiss to her crown again and letting go. The two of them set about the kitchen, cleaning up the breakfast mess in a comfortable silence, thinking about the future for their son and completely oblivious to the reality boiling between the younger men.

  
Back in their shared bedroom, James and Steve moved around each other in silence, grabbing clothes and towels for a shower. James glanced up from his suitcase to spot Steve bent over his duffel bag, rifling around inside it for a few moments obviously in search of something. He frowned, wanting to try and make amends for his earlier attitude. Really, he was coming to terms with how much Steve was really doing for him and how much he should have been showing his gratitude instead of being a total prick. He may have been a cold man, but he wasn't cruel.

  
"Ahem.. those uh... those cinnamon rolls were really good." he murmured, throwing his towel over his shoulder as he stood behind Steve. "You're mother's a very good cook. I move that she should be the one to bake our fake wedding cake." he murmured, shifting slightly on his feet as he waited tensely for Steve to respond.

  
The blond hesitated, dropping his socks in surprise. A quick look over his shoulder told him James was watching him, waiting for an answer rather than his stunned stare in return. He too cleared his throat and nodded. "Uh, yeah. She's very good with baking. And uh.. nursing care, just in case you, you know, get mauled by puppies again. She used to be a nurse before they moved up here. Now she runs the pharmacy." Steve grinned, standing up and nodding to James' cheek. There was a significant scratch along his cheekbone, and he frowned. "How'd you get that?"

  
James reached up, touching the scratch on his cheek for a brief moment before chuckling. "Uhm... probably from fleeing for my life. Did you know branches REALLY hurt when you're running full tilt away from imminent doom?"

  
"No I didn't, but I'll keep that in mind the next time wildlife tries to kill one of us." Steve chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck carefully. "Did you.. want my mom to take a look at it?"

  
"Nah." James tossed, waving his hand over his shoulder as he turned for the bathroom. "Leave it, it doesn't even hurt. Besides, it makes my soft office job look less prominent on my youthful, tough exterior."

  
"Yeah, you're so rugged." Steve rolled his eyes. "Bright yellow? Really?"

  
"Hey, it's breathable and flexible for all terrain jogging. Hate all you want, I got a good deal on this shit." James shot back at him, winking at the blond. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to get cleaned up and wash the stench of dog off of me. I'll try to save you some hot water, but no guarantees, Stevie."

  
Steve blinked, watching as his boss disappeared into the bathroom. A dark red flush crawled up his cheeks at the nickname and he grumbled, snatching his things off of the bed and exiting the room to make use of his parents' shower. No one called him Stevie but his mother. He wasn't exactly sure how he felt about his BOSS of all people using that pet name on him. The way it rolled off of his tongue so easily, however...

  
No. Steve growled to himself, locking the door of the bathroom and kicking on the shower to get the room filled with a thick mask of steam. It was not cute. It was not endearing.

  
It was not.

  
~*~

  
After their showers, Steve and James met up in the foyer of the house again. James looked far less flustered than he had this morning, and he cut a dashing figure in a pair of casual cut black jeans and a red checked button up shirt. His hair was pushed back from his forehead, but he'd decided to opt out of shaving that day. The fine sheen of stubble on his jaw cast a shadow across his features, mirroring the mop of dark hair on his head. He had just sat down on the floor to lace up his new boots, when he heard Steve approaching him. Glancing up at him, James offered the blond a bright smile. "Well don't we look like a pair of Twinkies?" He teased him, casting his eyes over his employee's clothing.

  
Steve, for his part, wore a dark blue plaid shirt that nearly matched his own, and a pair of light jeans, slightly faded from use. His blond hair was sticking up in soft spikes, no longer tamed by the gel that he always used in the office. James was once again hit with the notion that Steve was adorable to behold, and quickly shook himself. Getting to his feet, he reached for the chair where his jacket was strewn, shrugging into the leather with quick motions.

  
"Twinkies, clever. You dress down rather nice. This is what you look like when you're not parading around Wall Street? Humanity is a good look on you." Steve shot back, fighting his instincts to let his gaze roam over the shorter man's attire lest the action be misconstrued as anything but observant. He too grabbed his jacket and pulled it over his shoulders, pocketing keys to the Jeep and motioning with his head. "Let's go. It's already noon, and the party starts in two hours. We'll take a wander around town and order your phone. Wade is good for quick deliveries, so we'll hit his store up first."

  
James only nodded in return, his gaze resting on Steve's chest. The blue plaid shirt was clearly an older one; it stretched across his broad chest, showing off the mountains of his pectorals and the defining proportions of shoulder to waist ratio. Whomever Steve had the luxury of wooing was a lucky woman for sure. James licked his lips for a moment before nodding. "Ok. Let's go, Casanova."

  
Steve rolled his eyes at the nickname and followed him from the house, beelining for the Jeep before starting up the engine with a loud growl. It took them about ten minutes to get to town, and with the lack of exhaustion, James found himself staring out at the trees as they passed, reveling in their beauty once again. The sun had warmed the day to a comfortable degree, and he shrugged out of the leather jacket to toss it to the back seat. "So, why did you leave Alaska, to come to New York? Pretty sure half the people you told would slap you stupid. This place is gorgeous. New York.. well..."

  
Steve didn't answer for a moment, his eyes on the path before them. Just when James thought the other wouldn't respond, he spoke up. "I left because... well I can't do much for the world from Sitka. Yeah it's beautiful, but there isn't exactly a medium for getting the written word out to the world from here. I wanted to go to college, and the kind of education I wanted wasn't found here."

  
"That's a fair enough answer. Sort of sounds like my reasoning." James murmured, his fingers wrapped around the roll-bar of the Jeep's frame. Neither spoke again until they arrived in town. "Guess you didn't expect to end up working for someone like me. Did your family tell you to quit ever?"

  
Steve bit his lip, glancing out of the corner of his eye before replying. "Only every day." he murmured, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he revealed that last part. It really was shocking to see his mother and father so welcoming of James after all the horror stories he'd told them of. Clearly, James caught onto that discomfort and felt a stab of hurt that he'd been thought so poorly of people he didn't even know. He never answered.

  
~*~

  
The party was in full swing, and everyone in town had arrived. The Auditorium was packed with people, and the sounds of music playing in the background filled the air. Food was passed around, chatter mixing with the music filling the reverberating void of the high ceiling. James felt slightly claustrophobic as he stood next to Steve, letting his elbow bump into his side. As they stood together, James found that every single person in the place had found some time to make their way over and greet Steve, chattering about business and how the shops have been running. Hell, even the Mayor had found his way to Steve's side and clapped him on the back, welcoming him back to town. Everyone spent a few cursory moments greeting James and welcoming him to town. By the time he'd gotten through his third beer, James felt a little frazzled and dragged Steve away from the center of the party. The questions of the previous day rose back to his mind and he frowned up at him.

  
"OK, so I sort of shrugged off the whole Twilight zone thing yesterday for the sake of traveler's exhaustion, but it's time for you to start spilling. You didn't tell me you were rich. Ever. What's up with all the shops, and why does everyone keep rushing up to speak to you like you're the president? What gives? Do you OWN this town?"

  
Steve sighed, looking around the empty hallway they were standing in, glancing around to catch any eavesdroppers in the nearby vicinity. "I'm not rich. My parents are rich."

  
"That's funny because that's what EVERY rich person says."

  
Steve gripped James' shoulder and gave him a warning look. "You're getting that evil eye again. We're supposed to be pretending we're in love, stop freaking out and actually embrace the FULL spectrum of human emotion for one day!"

  
"You're going to tell me everything, Steven. Maybe not right now, but soon. Because seriously, this is ridiculous. I'm.. I'm turning into YOU. I'm practically invisible!" James huffed, throwing his arms out. He wasn't used to being someone else's shadow, and now that he had to play the part of the doting fiancé, the sheer awkwardness of it all was beginning to make him feel very uncomfortable.

  
Steve opened his mouth to speak, but a cough from behind him had the blond turning. At the door of the hallway stood a short brunet man with a goatee and a cocktail clutched in his grip. "Tony, Hey!" Steve smiled, turning and extending his hand to his friend. The grip between them was strong, and Steve felt a slight twinge of discomfort at the way Tony was looking at him.

  
"Steve, been awhile. Thought you fell off the face of the planet and disappeared." Tony replied, taking a drink before turning appraising attention to James. "This must be Jimmy."

  
"James." he shot back, bristling a little at the nickname. Dear god, what.. who the hell calls someone JIMMY? "It's nice to meet you. You're Tony..."

  
"Stark. Howard Stark's son. Acting boss of the island when Steve here is off playing Shakespeare in New York." The brunet replied, grinning brightly at the editor. "I'm actually surprised you two decided to show up. Must have been a hell of a time getting out here on such short notice, Jimmy. Being a big name editor and all that. Then again, I'm sure you're contacts are as sharp and reliable as you like to keep your working boyfriends. I can't wait to hear the wedding bells tolling at your command."

  
The three of them stared at each other for a moment. Steve shot Tony a venomous look as James shifted at his side, his eyes casting down to the floor as he floundered to come up with a response. When none came, Tony smiled again, shrugging over his shoulder. "Steve would you come here for a second? Got some things I'd like to discuss with you." he invited, holding his hand out to the side.

  
The blond swallowed, glancing at his boss for a moment before nodding and excusing himself from the hallway. James watched the two of them go, feeling just a tiny bit smaller as the two men stepped away.

  
"Don't worry about Anthony, dear, he's always been a prickly pear." A soft British accent startled James from his revere. He turned to see an elderly looking woman with thick white curls and a warm face watching him.

  
"I'm sorry, who are you?" he asked, feeling a little faint at the whole ordeal. His patience was starting to run thin, exacerbated by the steely cold gleam that had shone in Tony's eyes. If he didn't know any better, James was certain that Tony had already figured the two of them out.

  
"I see Steve didn't tell you about me yet. I'm Margaret Carter. Or.. Aunt Peggy as I'm popularly known around the island."

  
"Oh!" James replied dumbly, shooting his hand out to shake hers. But like Sarah, Peggy shrugged the extended hand off and pulled James into a hug. This time, James was a little more prepared for this reaction and he smiled, wrapping his arms around her before pulling back to smile down at her. "It's nice to meet you. Steven told me about you, but I guess in the flight here, my mind is still catching up with everything."

  
"Not to worry, dear. I know all about the trials of traveling long and far. Being one of the oldest inhabitants of the island, my memory is clear of the day I moved up here. It's lovely environment, James. Just lovely." She chuckled, patting his cheek with a withered hand. Contrast to the cold expression he'd received from Tony, Peggy's smile was warm and welcoming and he found his shoulders relaxing for the first time since the whole party had started. "Come with me to the food line, darling I'm feeling a little faint."

  
James nodded, extending his elbow to her. The old woman took his arm gratefully and the two of them walked through the thick crowds to the food tables set up. "I realize this party is meant for the two of you, but... Do humor an old woman in her years and promise to come and visit me this weekend. I'd love to get to know the man that has stolen our Steve's heart."

  
James nodded, picking up a plate for the old woman and following her down the rows of food set up to allow her to choose what she would eat. "I'll have to run that promise by Steven, however, I'm sure he'd be more than willing. He speaks very highly of you."

"And yet, he barely spoke of you to me. I wonder why that is?"

  
James swallowed, watching her carefully before glancing up to the rest of the party to see where Steve had gotten off to. "You know Steven. Always so shy."

  
Peggy looked up at him and smiled, though her eyes had taken a devious glint to them. "Actually, he's not so shy at all. Quite the little hellion he was growing up, and very protective of others. Never afraid to speak his mind. You, on the other hand, are very reserved and unsure of yourself. What is your secret, my dear? Running from the government?" Peggy said, beaming up at him.

  
James felt his heart stop in his chest and his face drain of color before he spluttered out a response. "Uh,... I'm.. excuse me? Where did you get such an idea?" he asked, trying to save face. The expression he received form her could only be described as searching, delving deeply into his soul and reading every single lie he'd ever told. Oh god they're ruse was up. They were caught, so fucking caught...

  
Then Peggy laughed. "I'm just teasing you, darling. So anxious all the time! Steve will be a very good man for you." she murmured, slapping him on the elbow. "However, I am very good at reading people. Never let someone say old age comes with senility. I see that you are curious but afraid of perceived failures in life. Is that why you work so hard in your young years? You should be enjoying life while you can. There's plenty of time to become an old stickler like myself."

  
James smiled, laughing weakly as his heart tried desperately to slow down from the gallop it had taken off into. "Well.. life... I mean." he stopped, started over, and inhaled. "I've had a few... trials to hurdle over in my life. That's all."

  
Peggy smiled, taking his arm again as he walked her to a table to sit. "Come sit with me, child. Keep an old woman company while we wait for Steve to arrive." The old lady tugged on his arm, having him sit down rather heavily into the chair next to her. He offered her an awkward expression, setting her plate before her.

  
The two of them fell into a silence for a moment. James spent most of those moments staring down at his fingertips, wondering what was an acceptable amount of time to sit here before he could flee into the crowd and drown himself in beer. Of course just when he was about to make some lame excuse to leave the scrutinizing gaze of the old woman, Peggy spoke up.

  
"Вы из России Арент вы ?" (1) she asked, that same powerful smile still crossing her wrinkled face.

  
James startled, looking up at her for a moment. When she made no move to speak again, he smiled a little. "Как вы знаете, что ? и я не знаю, что вы говорили по-русски ." (2)

  
Peggy laughed, plucking up a strawberry from the plate and gesturing at him with it. "Я сделал мою долю путешествий. Вы есть, что посмотреть о вас, мои дорогие."(3) She took a moment to bite into the sweet fruit, relishing the completely awe-struck expression she received from her table partner. "Besides, your shirt collar fell open. You have Cyrillic printed across your left clavicle, my dear. It doesn't take a spy to figure out that the words mean something to you. Besides, if I had been WRONG in my assumption, you could just pass off the sudden breach of cultural influence as old age turning an old woman off her rocker!" James smiled, watching her carefully. The banter between them... it had a comforting air to it. He didn't know why, but that brief moment of connection made the entire event far more tolerable. "What does that phrase mean to you, my dear?" she asked, her voice dropping a little. Through the din of the party, James barely heard it. However, the blow it gave him when he realized what she was referring to had him swallowing a little, shaking his head. 

"It's... something for another time." he murmured, meeting her stern gaze once again. "Maybe when we come to see you at your house, I'll tell you about it."

  
Any further conversation came to an abrupt halt the moment a squeal echoed over the Auditorium speakers. James flinched, looking up to the stage to see a squirrelly looking man holding the microphone and tapping his palm against it harder than necessary. He had a shaved head and "crazy" eyes, manic grin and a bright red t-shirt. "Who's that?" James asked, peeking over at Peggy. She was smiling broadly at the stage, clapping along with the crowd that had gathered before them.

  
"That's "Crazy" Wade Wilson. He's our resident border jumping Canadian. But everyone thinks he's funny, so no one ever sent him back to Canada." A voice chimed in. James glanced over his shoulder to see Steve had approached them. He looked... frazzled. Upset? James wasn't sure. But he didn't like the look that was on the blond's face, and he stood up quickly.

  
"Are you OK?"

  
Steve waved him off, still staring at the stage. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

  
"HELLO, HELLO!? Is this thing on?" Wade piped into the microphone, making it shriek with feedback. Everyone flinched back from the speakers, covering their ears. "I guess so!! Ahah, welcome everyone to the "Let's get hitched" Par-tay of the CENTURY! Give it up for the two lovebirds in the audience! SPEECH, SPEECH, BRING 'EM ON UP, LADIES AND GERMS!"

  
The entire crowd turned to spot James and Steve standing next to each other, and a cheer roared over the auditorium. A flurry of hands approached the two of them, shoving both men up to the stage where they were quickly engulfed by a pair of wiry arms. Wade dragged the two of them to center stage, shoving the microphone into their faces.

  
"It feels like it was only yesterday when we learned of the time-honored romance of these two budding Romeos. Actually about two days ago, but who's counting?!" Wade laughed, throwing an arm around James' shoulders and winking at him. "I take it you're the bride right? Right? Yeah he looks like the bride. Give it up for James Barnes, everyone. He's finally gonna make an honest man out of our Golden boy!" Feigning a tear, Wade leaned in and pressed a hearty and wet kiss to James' cheek.

  
He wasn't repulsed by it. No not.. really. But, for Christ's sake, did this guy know no boundaries? James flinched, feeling a heat flushing his cheeks as the entire audience laughed and applauded the two of them. James took minor comfort in the fact that Steve looked just as uncomfortable as he did. He fired off a glare at his employee. This was definitely not how this party was supposed to go.

  
At the forefront of the crowd stood Steve's parents, followed by Bruce, Clint and Natasha. James didn't mind attention, but this was so beyond his comfort zone. All he wanted now, was to crawl back to the house and hope to God he woke up back in his apartment in Central Park West, and none of this whole week had ever happened.

  
He was vaguely aware that Wade had asked him a question, and his mind went blank. No no no.. no fiancé questions, no proposal questions, no! If he had to go into detail of an event that never happened, that made this whole situation that much more real. Besides, how the hell was he supposed to come up with an off-the-cuff story of how Steve had opened his heart up to him and begged to be his best man, when it NEVER HAPPENED?

  
"I'm sorry.. can you repeat the question.." James offered lamely, feeling his face turning as red as his shirt.

  
Wade simply laughed and scrubbed his knuckles over James' hair, mussing up the black locks. "Silly bride-to-be, trick questions are for kids. I guess the pre-marriage jitters are getting to him already!" Hooting, Wade pulled away from them and gestured at Steve. "I asked, how did our charming groom ask you to marry him? Tell us it was everything Julia Roberts and Richard Gere, man!"

  
The crowd fell silent as they waited for their response. The editor inhaled deeply, gearing himself for the biggest tall tale he could ever muster in his life.

  
"Actually, he proposed to me." Steve interrupted, making the entire crowd turn to face him. James huffed out a relieved sigh as the attention was removed from him. He glanced up to see Steve smiling down at him. Damn, he could have been nominated for an Academy award. "It was actually.. quite sudden. James and I had been seeing each other in secret for a few months.. things were getting pretty serious. We were out to lunch one day, after a pretty grueling business proposal, and James just.. he just kept fidgeting. I asked him what was wrong, and the poor man couldn't answer me." Steve looked out to the crowd and cracked a huge grin. "Actually thought he was gearing up to break it off with me. Which, you know, would have made work incredibly awkward, considering he's my boss and all that."

  
Another round of laughter rumbled from the audience. Wade giggled, crossing his arms and holding the microphone right under Steve's nose. "Go on, this is getting good."

  
"As we were leaving the building, I asked him what was wrong, and he just wouldn't look at me. At this point, I was sure it was over. Then... I turned around. James wasn't walking anymore. He just kept staring at me. 'Oh great' i thought to myself. 'He's going to tell me in front of the whole of the city.' So.. imagine my surprise, when he suddenly dropped down to one knee. He pulled out this little black box, and inside it... was this ring." Steve held up his left hand. The gold band glinted on his finger, and the entire audience cooed with the sentiment of it. "He told me this ring ran in his family for generations, and had been given to him by his mother. I knew it meant something deeply important to him. So when he asked me... 'Steven. I know it's been such a short time, but.. I feel like you are the one. And I can't live without you. Please.. make me the happiest man. Be my husband'... I knew he was the one." Steve trailed off, watching the crowd.

  
Everyone before them had fallen silent. A few tears were shed. Loud kissing noises were heard over the silence of the room. Loud enough, because Wade had taken the liberty to torment the two of them, puckering up to the microphone and smacking his lips. "Beautiful, mi amores! Who would have thought James could be such a tender heart? After all the stories we've heard, well.. even the beauty can tame the beast, eh? EH?"

  
James shot Steve a narrowed look. Steve, for his part, had the decency to blush that he'd just been outed for talking shit about his employer for the better part of two years to the entire TOWN, let alone his family, and offered him a sheepish smile.

  
"BUT!" Wade suddenly shouted into the microphone. Feedback again. A few groaned protests to his inept use of a microphone. "But! I seem to notice, you two.. why so FORMAL?! James? Steven? Pu-LEESE! NO ONE calls their baby honey boo-bears by their formal names. There's gotta be a few cutesy pet-names you two throw around each other, right? C'moooon, share with the rest of us. We wanna hear it so we can tease you all MERCILESSLY for the next 20 or so years of martial bliss!"

  
James couldn't escape this question now. He felt the spit-riddled microphone shoved into his face again and he grimaced, pushing the device away from his mouth before clearing his throat. "I'm.. eh.. I'm not very creative, as you can tell. Dropping to one knee in Time's Square. Seen it, right? Uhh... I just.. call him Stevie. Or baby. When he's being a little shit, I'll call him.. uhh.. Punk. Yeah. That's all I got." he muttered, stepping back from the microphone.

  
Wade gave an exaggerated yawn, dropping his head to the side. "Snore. Yawn. LAME-O! We need to work on your delivery, bridezilla! ANYHOO, what about you Stevie bear! What do you call your special little star-flower?"

  
Attention turned back to Steve like the crowd at a tennis match watching an intense game. If the whole thing hadn't been so goddamn ridiculous, James would have laughed. Instead, silence fell over the crowd again, a few snickers and giggles echoing in the high ceilings.

  
Steve faltered. His daily alloted amount of creativity had run completely dry at that moment, and he swallowed. Think.. THINK. What could be a good nickname? He pondered through every possible supplement in James' life that could be utilized as a nickname. Then it hit him. He'd seen his middle name scrawled on a few documents last year, and accidentally printed by a doctor's office on James' last bill. Buchanan. He could work with this.

  
"... Bucky." He blurted out less than eloquently into the microphone. "Bucky.. baby? Bucky bear? Any of those variants really.. It's.. it's based off of his middle name. I figured.... why not go for something unique. James.. er, Bucky, is not a simple man. Why saddle him down with such a drab nickname?"

  
The crowd laughed, applauding wildly for the two of them. James, for his part, did a rather fabulous job of hiding the look of horror on his face. Bucky? BUCKY? What the fuck, that was worse than Jimmy. He would have PREFERRED Jimmy. Hell, a generic nickname would have sufficed. How the hell was he supposed to uphold any sort of authority with a name that sounded like it came spilling out of a child's book about chipmunks?

  
However, the nickname seemed to do the trick, as Wade stepped back, slapping his hands on his knees with a roar of laughter. "Bucky! I love it! that's perfect, we better make sure to draw that on the cake when the wedding comes, right?"

  
"LET'S SEE A KISS!" Clint shouted from the audience, cupping his hands around his mouth. Everyone seemed on board with that, and cheered loudly, clapping their hands and starting up a rousing chant of "Kiss, kiss kiss!"

  
Steve and James looked at each other for a moment, equal expressions of unease on their faces. But with the crowd bearing down on them, they really had no choice at this moment. Smiling awkwardly, they stepped up to each other and laughed weakly. All around them, "KISS KISS KISS!" echoed like a death knell, and James felt a little weak at the knees. This wasn't part of the deal, no no.

  
"Just make it quick." Steve whispered, staring down at him before leaning in. James sighed, closing his eyes and puckering his lips up. When their lips met, it was.. awkward. Weird....

  
"LAME!" Wade shouted again, making the two of them jump and bump foreheads.

  
"LET'S SEE A REAL KISS!" Peggy's voice raised over the crowd. James shot a look out to the audience. Traitorous old broad... James sighed. There was really no getting out of it now. Traitorous, yes.. but she was really sweet and touching. In the few minutes he'd spent talking with her, he'd felt far more comfortable here than he had since they'd landed. He couldn't disappoint her now.

  
So he looked up at Steve and frowned, mouthing 'let's just get it over with'. Steve nodded, placing his hands on James' waist. He pulled the shorter man closer to him and closed his eyes. James steeled himself for the world's most uncomfortable experience ever, but leaned in, letting his own eyes drift shut to try and block it out.

  
This time however, when their lips met it was soft and warm.. comforting. Nothing forceful or gawky. Just... nice. Letting himself ignore the chanting around them, he leaned up into the kiss a little, pressing his lips more firmly against Steve's until their lips slotted into place, James' lower lip trapped between Steve's. If he really tried, he could actually feel the warmth of the inside of Steve's mouth against his own, and the thrill that it sent shooting to the pit of his stomach was undeniable. Steve involuntarily dug his fingers into James' waist a little more firmly, pulling him closer.Steve, for his own part, hadn't kissed anyone in quite awhile. James' lips were full and pouty, slightly chapped from the cold air they were not used to, but soothing. It was a kiss he could, honestly, see himself repeating again and again.

  
They lingered like this for a moment, completely oblivious to the crowd having fallen silent before them. Then they came back to themselves. James pulled away first, staring up at the blond with a bewildered expression on his face. Steve's face comically matched his own and they pulled away, feeling the dregs of graceless embarrassment in their limbs.

  
"Awww man, guys wasn't that cute?!" Wade cheered, urging the crowd to goad them both on. He yanked both Steve and James into a huge bear hug, squeezing them both tightly until he practically lifted them off of their feet. From stage left, Sam and Maria silently carried a tray with a small cake resting atop it, already cut into slices. They both had matching grins on their faces. While Steve and James were obliviously being snuggled by Wade, they approached them both from behind, holding their fingers to their lips to keep the crowd from letting on exactly what was going on.

  
Wade picked up on it instantly and grinned, tugging back. "Now before I let you two lovebirds go, we gotta have cake. Cake right? Proposal cake? Ain't that a thing with you weirdo Americans?" He giggled, reaching over and plucking up two slices of cake with his fingers. Steve and James barely had a chance to register what was going on before they both had twin slices of cake being shoved into their still gape-mouthed faces. "EAT THE CAKE MY YOUNG LOVERS AND BE ONE!"

  
James choked on the chocolaty dessert, feeling slightly sickened. He HATED chocolate. And cake.. there was absolutely no way he was going to be able to swallow that without it coming back to bite him later. Mouth stuffed full of now soggy pastry and lips smeared with overly sugary frosting, he looked up at Steve helplessly as the other struggled to swallow the gigantic slice of cake that had been shoved down his throat. There was literally nothing else he could do. He hated this.. he was going to hate himself later for this. But there it was.

  
James covered his mouth with his palm and spat the partially masticated dessert back into the cup of his hand. Spit dripping and disgusting, he stared down at it for a moment before sighing and trying to make his way off the stage to salvage what dignity he had left.  
So of course Wade had to go the extra mile and grab BOTH Steve and James' hands, clasping their hands together with a wet slap. Both men grimaced as Wade held their fists up in a triumphant stance chanting "STEVIE AND BUCKY, SITTING IN A TREE. K.I.S.S.I.N.G!". To make matters worse, they both could feel the wet cake dripping down their wrists, squashed into a completely unrecognizable mush.

  
This couldn't have ended worse. Total crowd embarrassment, a surprisingly good kiss that made them both question their decision at this horrible, HORRIBLE plan of action... warm palms... and squishy cake... Gross.

* * *

 

 

Translations for James and Peggy's Cyrillic. I'm sorry if it's inaccurate, I don't speak Russian and had to rely on Google Translate:

  
(1. You are from russia arent you?)  
(2. How did you know that? And I didn't know you spoke Russian.)  
(3. I've done my fair share of traveling. You have that look about you, my dear.)

And for your viewing pleasure...

Pictures models for Steve and Bucky. They really do look like Twinkies :D Our pretty boys! 

 

 


	5. Hungry Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and James go horseback riding together in the quiet Alaskan night, and truths come out between them that begin to bring them closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter took longer to write because I wanted to get as much of their histories correct as I could. I tried to implement real world facts that would make a little more sense with their canon characters (Steve discus throwing in high school, old timey movies as favorites, dancing, etc.) So I hope i did ok. This chapter is a little more feely as you get to know James more than anyone has ever known him. Plus i managed to explain away why he has such an American sounding name, so, yeah! Onto the Chapter!

It was nearly 8pm by the time the party in Town Hall had finally wound to a close. People had filtered out one at a time, bidding their well-wishes to Steve and James before retiring for the evening. By the time the last of the individuals had left for the night, only Steve's small group of friends, family, and his boss remained in the hall. James had long since abandoned the table the two of them were seated at, helping Sarah and Joe pack up whatever food was left over and sending it away to different homes in town. Natasha, Bruce, Clint, Sam.. they all were in the process of tearing down decorations, while Maria had already departed to take Aunt Peggy home for the night.

  
Steve stared at the tabletop, trying to ignore the phantom sensations of mushy cake in his palm. He'd scrubbed his hand clean of the muck, wondering how it could taste so good going down, and yet disgust him to no end in any other way. Textures.. He really had an issue with them, it seemed. However, that was not what was bothering him. Instead of being bothered by the fact that he actually didn't MIND kissing his boss in front of dozens of people, he was preoccupied entirely by the conversation he'd had with Tony...

  
_"Stark. Howard Stark's son. Acting boss of the island when Steve here is off playing Shakespeare in New York." The brunet replied, grinning brightly at the editor. "I'm actually surprised you two decided to show up. Must have been a hell of a time getting out here on such short notice, Jimmy. Being a big name editor and all that. Then again, I'm sure you're contacts are as sharp and reliable as you like to keep your working boyfriends. I can't wait to hear the wedding bells tolling at your command."_

  
_Steve shot Tony a dangerous look as he saw James look down at the floor obviously chastised by the simple sentence. He felt a wild and violent urge to reach out and punch Tony in the jaw for insulting his fiancé.. wait, BOSS goddammit, but clenched his fists at his sides instead. Despite knowing that this was only a ruse and there was no need to get so defensive, Steve still felt this... pressing NEED to defend James. And from the smile Tony was shooting him, Steve felt like he had a lot of fighting ahead of him now. Tony smiled again, shrugging over his shoulder. "Steve would you come here for a second? Got some things I'd like to discuss with you." he invited, holding his hand out to the side._

  
_Steve glanced over to James, the corner of his mouth perking downward as he waited to see what his boss would do. When James didn't so much as peep a word, he knew that James could sense the gravity of the situation. Steve knew Tony was full of shit half the time, but if he was this calculating and damning NOW, that wasn't a good sign. Did he know something he wasn't saying? Steve couldn't be sure. But instead of making a big deal out of it now, he simply swallowed down his anger and nodded, excusing himself from James' side and following Tony down the adjacent hallway._

  
_"Hell of a way to make a first impression, Tony." Steve snarled at him, crossing his arms over his chest to regard the shorter man carefully. It made his skin crawl how casual Tony looked at that moment, guzzling back a cocktail like it was water and casting judgmental looks over Steve's shoulder. He growled in his chest and snatched the drink out of Tony's hands, getting his attention fully on him before slamming the glass down on the side table. "What the hell is your problem. I've been here for less than 24 hours and already you're starting your shit again."_

  
_"I'm sorry, Steve, am I not looking out for your best interests? Like a good friend would do?" Tony asked, glaring right back at him before pointing over his shoulder. "I mean honestly, what the hell is wrong with you? You brought the guy you cant fucking stand to meet your parents of ALL people... PRETENDING TO BE FIANCES?"_

  
_"We're not.. Tony, what the fuck? It's not fake!" Steve shot back at him, feeling his cheeks flushing dark red in anger. Technically, Tony was right and damn him for being so ridiculously smart and observant, but hell, he had a deal to uphold. If that wasn't in, all technicalities ,a relationship then what was?_

  
_"Look, I know you and I haven't seen eye to eye since high school, but I still consider you a friend, and you have to believe me when I say this looks really bad. Really suspicious. I mean just last week, Bruce and I were talking down at the watering hole over a few pints, and he was describing the last time you called to bitch about him. How he drove you up the wall, how anyone so cold-hearted could possibly live and breathe the same air as actual people. You DESPISE him, and now you're SLEEPING WITH HIM? I never thought of you as the kind of person to sleep your way to the top, Steve. That's not you."_

  
_"You're right, it's NOT me because that's NOT WHAT'S GOING ON!" Steve all but shouted, ignoring the looks shot his way from passers-by. He glared at Tony and shoved his shoulder slightly, causing him to stumble backwards. "There's a lot going on that you have no clue about, Tony. Don't even try to claim you can understand any of it, because you CAN'T. And I have no reason or obligation to explain to you what's going on in my life."_

  
_"So you're just going to keep up this lie in front of the whole town. That's nice, Steve. Real nice. I hope the promotion is worth the two-bit tail you're gonna be getting for awhile from that cocky-looking asshole."_

  
_"Takes one cocky asshole to know one, Tony."_

  
_Tony narrowed his eyes at him and pointed at Steve, his words jarring. "I'm going to find out what's going on. And when I do, I'm going to make sure EVERYONE knows. It's for your own good, Steve. Drop the act while you're still ahead."_

  
Steve had watched in fury as Tony waltzed away from his side, slipping his sunglasses on as he stepped out of Town Hall and left the party. That was five hours ago. Now, sitting at the table and thinking back to the confrontation before the majority of the party had gone underway, he clenched his fists tight enough to make his nails cut into his palms until they bled slightly. He didn't know what he was more upset about: the fact that Tony was onto them and on the warpath to oust them to the whole town, or the fact that he was furious at himself for even listening to Tony's very astute observations. As much as he knew Tony was right, he just.. he was in so deep now, he COULDN'T back out and leave James in the lurch like that... If Steve was anything, he was an honest man that kept his end of the deal. If James was still in on it, then so was he.

  
He was so lost in his own thoughts he didn't hear anyone approach him from behind. He jumped the moment a hand touched his shoulder, his eyes shooting up to the figure next to him.

  
"Whoa, Earth to Rogers." James murmured, jerking his hand back from his shoulder and chuckling. "You OK there?"

  
Steve swallowed, nodding stiffly before getting to his feet. "Yeah, sorry, guess I was just a little overwhelmed by the whole party." he murmured. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he glanced around a little sheepishly to note that the entire hall was cleaned up. "Damn, guess I didn't do my part, did I?"

  
James shrugged, looking back to where Sarah and Joe were talking over the remains of the food. He smiled a little, noticing the way the two of them looked so fondly at the other. It actually made his heart clench slightly in his chest. "It's fine, we got it done. I didn't really want to sit still for the rest of the night anyway. Though I probably should have stayed by you. Wade kept following me around all night, grabbing my ass. I dunno about you, Mr. Rogers, but I think you have competition. What are you gonna do about it?" James asked, waggling a brow at him playfully.

  
"Wade was grabbing your ass?" Steve blinked, overwhelmed by the actuality that James could and DID just joke with him, and the fact that he actually felt a little.. perturbed by the idea that someone (even someone as crazy as Wade) was making a pass at James.

  
The editor snorted indelicately and waved his hand. "Yeah, but uhm.. I think I clocked him hard enough to get him to stop. Though I think, in retrospect he kind of liked it. You know you have very strange people in these parts, right?"

  
To their right, a voice piped up. "You know, we're not all that bad up here. Some of us just like to claim a little bit of a different plane of normality than others, is all."

Both James and Steve looked up to see a pretty blond girl standing in the doorway of the hall, smiling at them. Or rather, smiling at Steve. She waved at him, her slim fingers curling slightly as she giggled. "Hiya Steve."

  
Steve stared at her for a moment, a huge smile crossing his lips. "Sharon? Holy shit, hey!" he laughed, running over and pulling her into a tight hug. The two of them embraced for a long moment, soaking up the attention before Steve pulled back to smile down at her.

  
James did not move from his spot. He wasn't really all that surprised that there was yet ANOTHER person Steve knew. However, the looks between them, the smiles, the laughter.. this wasn't a friend, or a business interaction. They were close. Really close. He bit his lip, watching the two of them for a moment before deciding to slink back to the others in the room and give the two of them their space.

  
But before he could get more than two feet away, he heard Steve call to him and he sighed. Dammit, so much for a clean get away. He turned and regarded the blond with a small smile on his lips, stepping over and extending his hand to her. "Hi, My name is James. Sharon I presume?" He added, glancing up at Steve for a moment.

  
"Yes, Sharon here is my ex. We dated back in high school and right at the beginning of my freshman year at NYU." Steve explained, stepping back to let the two of them get to know each other.

  
Sharon nodded, giving James' hand a firm shake before clasping her fists in front of her waist. "Yeah! Steve and I were real close back then. It's.. it's so nice to see you again, Steve, and to meet you James. Steve is a really wonderful man, you're both going to be so happy together." Sharon said, glancing between the two of them. "I'm so sorry I missed the party, you two. I was stuck in Juneau all day with work and just couldn't get back in time. I was just on my way to turn in for the night, and thought I'd stop by and see if anyone was left. Looks like it was lucky of me to at least get a chance to say hey and meet you, James!"

  
James smiled, amused by her overtly bubbly nature. He nodded between the two blonds and gestured to the table that was just being broken down now. "Uh, Steve's parents and I packed up the remainder of the food from the party. If you're hungry, I'm sure Sarah doesn't mind making you a plate." he offered, being a perfect gentleman to the girl.

  
Steve found himself fascinated by the way James could just turn on the charisma like it was as easy as pie. Even after two years of seeing the darker side of James, Steve could see why James had been notorious for being seen as alluring and heartbreaking. If he didn't know him so personally, he may have been swayed by his charms.

  
"Oh no, please, I couldn't. Ive eaten already for the evening, I'll be perfectly fine." Sharon assured them both, waving her hand to ward off any attempts at persuasion. "I'll just be heading home now. I just wanted to say hi to Steve before he left after the weekend." Sharon beamed up at Steve and held his arm. Pulling him closer, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, hugging him tightly once again before stepping back. "you two have a lovely evening now!"

  
Steve and James watched Sharon depart from the hall with a flounce in her step. The two of them stood awkwardly for a moment before glancing at one another with a meek chuckle. "She seems nice." James started, gesturing vaguely at her retreating back. He briefly wondered if he'd maybe had a few too many beers at the party. The weird, clench he felt in his stomach ever since he saw Sharon and Steve giggling together and looking just right in the world was starting to annoy him. He swallowed down the spike of jealousy, berating himself for even having such insanely STUPID thoughts. This was just a business transaction. Nothing more. Why the hell should he care if Steve and Sharon had a rekindling of their past feelings for each other?

  
Steve nodded, watching her go fondly and completely oblivious to James' inner turmoil. There was really no mistaking it. James could see as clear as day that Sharon had meant quite a lot to Steve in the past, and seeing her again had only dredged up more memories of the two of them. "Yeah, she's really an incredible woman. I'm glad you got to meet her." Steve murmured, still staring at the door. After a moment, he shook his head and smiled. "If you want to head back to the house for the night, Buck-JAMES.. James, sorry." he corrected, holding his hands up to James. "JAMES. If you want to head back to the house, I'll meet you back there later. I think I'm gonna go for a walk. This whole evening has been.. really kinda aggravating."

  
James shrugged. Walking with Steve was really the least he could do for him. If anything, he could make sure he didn't get lost in his head-space and wander right off the front of a dock or something. "I'm not tired yet. It's still light out, will be for the rest of the night, hell. How about this... I'm sure Cap could use a walk. He's been locked up in your house all day. Why don't we both take him for a walk? I mean." James looked over his shoulder at the family across the hall, watching as friends and parents began to shrug into their jackets finally. "Since we're supposed to be putting up this trick for three more days, why not really lay it on thick for them?" James grinned at Steve and edged him in the rib with his elbow. "What do you say?"

  
The blond pondered the suggestion for a moment before breaking down. A smile touched his lips again. "Sure, I'd like that. I'm sure Cap would appreciate the walk too." Plucking his coat from the back of the chair, he gestured to the door. "Bridezilla's first."

  
James scoffed a little, rolling his eyes and grabbing his own jacket from the chair. "And now you've ruined the mood. Utterly obliterated. Good job. I hold no responsibility for the downfall of this whole evening."

  
Steve laughed, waving to his parents to let them know they were taking off. A brief jog to the parked Jeep, both James and Steve clambered in and made their way for the house, talking here and there about the party and everyone they'd seen that day. As much as the whole afternoon had been hellaciously embarrassing, and they were both pretty sure they'd never repeat the whole situation again, James and Steve both agreed that it had definitely been a memorable engagement party. Too bad it was all for show...

  
After Steve had parked the Jeep for the night and released the anxious wolf-dog from his confines, they left the house with Cap trailing at Steve's heels while James kept a bit of distance. While he'd been anticipating taking the mutt for a walk, he now felt somewhat daunted by the sheer size of Cap, reminded of that morning's jog that had scared the living hell out of him. It took James a few minutes to feel comfortable around the massive creature, but after a bit of coaxing, he'd dropped down to one knee and offered his hand to the wolf-dog, anxiously wondering if he was going to lose a finger.

  
Cap seemed just as hesitant to approach James. Seemingly aware that he'd done wrong by scaring him, the mutt hung back behind Steve's legs for a few moments, only inching forward when James clucked his tongue at him and urged him to step forward. Pussy-footing closer, the wolf-dog sniffed James' outstretched fingertips for a few moments before glancing up at Steve, asking with big yellow eyes, "Is this OK?"

  
"You're both impossible." Steve snorted, stepping back entirely to let the two get to know one another without familiar interaction. This left James and Cap staring at each other for a few moments before the canine took the final step and butted his head against James' palm with a curious little yeowl in his throat. James all but melted, rubbing his fingers over the velvety thick fur with a coo and smiling down at the creature.

  
"Hey Cap. Sorry I uhm.. scared you for scaring me? You're really kind of nice." he murmured, scrubbing his fingertips over his ears. That got the wolf-dog yapping and lunging forward to lick his face enthusiastically, tail wagging a mile a minute as Steve laughed behind them.

  
"Maybe you're not so bad at all. I didn't think scaring the life out of you all day would actually soften that grumpy shell of yours, James." Steve chuckled, watching his boss get to his feet and pat his thigh to let Cap walk alongside him like an old friend.

  
James shot him back a smile, though his eyes darted to the side as he thought about his words. Really, in all honesty, James had never previously taken into consideration that so many people would think so little of him, despite his knowingly foul temper. If STEVE, the guy who worked for him and basically took care of him for two years thought that poorly of him, no wonder he had no friends... "Yeah, well, don't shove any toddlers in my face, lest you wanna actually be hitched for life. Though I think you're mom wouldn't complain much."

  
The two of them fell into companionable silence, wandering the open fields of the Alaskan landscape. Every few minutes, Cap would dart forward to chase a squirrel or land rodent before coming back obediently every time Steve or James called to him. It was actually... kinda nice. James kept his eyes on the grassy trail they walked, only looking up at his companion when spoken to. When they fell into silence again, he cleared his throat, changing the subject back to their important mission. His mind had wandered back to their meeting with Sharon more than a dozen times during their walk. He felt he had to clarify for Steve, just in case the other had any funny ideas about being celibate during their faux marriage.

  
"So, I was thinking... when we get married, I don't expect that you have to be all.. you know, faithful to me and whatnot. However long it takes for the citizenship to go through, you can.. do what you must. Date, see other people. Whatever." he gestured to Steve's left hand. The gold band still sat around his finger. "Tell em, we're having an open marriage if you want. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

  
Steve, for his sake, looked a little surprised at his boss, maybe a little.. hurt? "Uhm, well that wasn't really, you know, cause for discussion. I know I was perfectly capable of doing what I wanted." He added under his breath, "Not like this is real, at all. But thanks, I guess, for giving me the green light."

  
"Mhm." James murmured, nodding his head as he stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets carefully. "Just remember, when this weekend is over, I want the ring back."

  
"What's the deal with that ring, anyway?" Steve murmured, kicking a stone down the path as they walked. "You don't seem like the type to wear a ring around your neck to ward off any weirdos at the bars. I'm sure you pick up quite a few chicks in your time off. Why wear it?"

  
James' shoulders stiffened as he glanced up at him, his ice blue eyes hardening again at the question. "If you want me to be in a good mood for the rest of the night, don't ask that. I'm not telling you. Story-time will come when it's necessary. Right now, just drop it OK?" He hissed, pushing ahead to make his way down the path without Steve at his side.

  
"There you are, Mr. Barnes. I thought you'd actually developed a heart at some point today." Steve snapped right back, glaring at his boss' hunched shoulders as he walked. "It was just a question, Christ." James halted. The two of them fell silent on the path, one staring ahead, while the other's eyes bore into his spine. After a few tense moments, Steve spoke up. "Sorry, OK? Just... I don't understand you, sometimes. Clearly, it's tied in with something personal. If you're ready to share whenever, then share. Otherwise don't take it out on me because you've got baggage that you won't let go of."

  
The tension was so thick, James could cut it with a knife. He let his shoulders slump a little before turning and facing him, that old cool and collected smile plastered on his face. "You're right. When I feel like sharing, I'll tell you. But I've made a good name of myself being an asshole, so as long as it feels safe, I'll keep up the charade." He flashed him a business smile and shrugged. "Where are we going?"

  
Steve watched him for a moment, gauging his attitude. When he was satisfied that James was not going to snap at him again, he nodded. "Thor's stables. Couple of Norwegian brothers used to run it together, but since Thor's brother left, it's just been he and his wife Jane. They're good people."

  
"Stables?"

  
Steve smirked, casting a casual glance around the field. "Yeah, stables. Was gonna take you riding horses for the evening, but if you're tired of me being around I can head back to the house and spend the evening by myself. I'm perfectly capable of that."

  
James perked up at the suggestion, his eyes widening. "Horses?" He asked, sounding a little more excited than he had intended. But hell, one of his favorite childhood pastimes at his fingertips? How could he pass it up? "Don't even think about it. Hell yeah, I wanna go riding."

  
"Then stop being a dick to me and BEHAVE." Steve chuckled, extending his elbow to him. "Be a good little wife and walk with me."

  
James rolled his eyes but took his arm, their walk resuming. It took them about ten more minutes to arrive, but when they did, the farm-y smell of stables wafted across the air, making James giddy with anticipation. "I haven't ridden horses in years."

  
"You used to ride?" Steve asked, sounding surprised yet again as they approached the house. Man, this trip was just dolling out all kinds of informational tidbits about James. Steve couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up his chest. "Sorry, I don't mean to laugh. Just.. didn't know that about you."

  
"Hah! See, if that question would have been in the binder, you would have been screwed." James said triumphantly, letting go of Steve's arm. "I'm sure you're friends and family are going to want to know more than the hours I clock in the office, or you know.. whatever you decide to tell them about me." Not waiting to hear what Steve's response would be, he veered off the path to make his way to the stables. A few horses were stalled and munching happily on feed, nickering as their quiet night was interrupted by footsteps. James' eyes scanned the stalls for a moment before they landed on a young Quarter horse with a jet black mane accenting a chestnut brown coat. He smiled, mentally choosing this horse as he stepped up to the stall, holding his palm out to the beast. "Hey girl... Shh shh, it's OK.." He murmured, soothing the creature as he let the horse get used to his scent. A small smile crossed his lips as he felt a warm, velveteen nose press against his palm, snorting heavily in greeting. It tickled his palm and he laughed. Rubbing his fingers along the horse's forelock to get acquainted with her, James spoke in low tones, earning her trust little by little until he was able to slip into the stall next to her and let his fingers roam over her shoulders and barrel in soothing strokes.

  
The editor lost himself for a few minutes, talking to the horse and petting her. He was so entranced by her, he barely noticed Steve approaching him from behind, holding the keys to the tack shed. Neither spoke as he unlocked the door and fetched his own saddle and bridle from inside.

  
"Hey James." Steve called, gesturing to the door when his boss glanced over at him. "C'mon, Thor said to help ourselves. He just needs to have the horses back in two hours so he can lock up for the night."

  
James nodded, following suit with his companion. It took him a few moments, but quickly the memories of properly tacking a horse came back to him as he blanketed, saddled and bridled the beast he'd so quickly bonded with. The blond was impressed with his touch, watching James for a moment while he stood next to a large painted stallion in the next stall over. The way James moved around the mare was stunning... there really was no other way to describe it. Even if he didn't admit it, Steve found he was enthralled with this new, gentle side of James.

  
"Hey, Princess. You gonna stare at me all night, or are you gonna finish up there?" James called, grinning at Steve as he held the reins in his fingers and urged the horse to follow him out of the stall. The girl whickered at him and nudged her nose against his shoulder as if to agree with James. "See? Even she's getting impatient. It's rude to keep a lady waiting, you know."

  
"Yeah yeah, alright Buck." Steve grumbled, waving him off as he fitted the bit between the bars of the stallion's gums. The two of them climbed into the saddles of their mounts, bantering between the other as they urged the horses forward into a slow walk, with Cap trailing behind them on the plains. The sun sat low on the horizon, never really pitching lower than the distant mountain pass. The light left an ambient glow over the terrain, painted in orange and pink with shadows cast by the tall grass and brush. James fell silent from their banter, just looking at it all as a small smile crossed his lips. Steve noted the silence that fell over James and he too smiled at him, his eyes tracing over the other's figure in the saddle. He looked graceful, regal even. It was an odd thing to think of James as being anything other than the icy, untrusting man that he'd known just 48 hours before.

  
"Penny for your thoughts?" Steve asked, resting his hand that held the reins in the saddle. He let his free hand rest on his thigh, the glint of the evening twilight catching on the ring around his left ring finger.

  
James looked over at him with a smile, raising a brow questioningly at him. "What do you want to know?"

  
"You?" Steve prompted, looking up at him again. He tugged on the reins just slightly, urging the painted stallion to sidle right up to the brown Quarter horse until their knees almost touched, the gentle sway of "clip clop" hooves accenting the otherwise pressing silence around them.

  
James sighed, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Me, huh? Anything about me." He paused, looking up at him again before resuming. "Does this have to do with the binder?"

  
"A little bit. But I mean, if we're going to get married, I guess we should know about ourselves, right? All the good, the bad, the embarrassing?" Steve finished, shrugging a shoulder as he fell silent again. "I mean.. if you really don't want to talk, that's fine, I guess. We still have about 2 days to get down to the nitty gritty."

  
James pondered that, considering that Steve may be right. But a small portion of him wanted to tell him, just because he wanted Steve to know that he wasn't some mindless drone that went through life on autopilot. He didn't speak for a long moment, thinking about himself and what made him "James". There wasn't much in the way of deep, thought provoking honesty. But he could spill a few unknown truths about himself.

  
"... I don't like chocolate." James murmured, startling Steve out of the oppressive silence that enveloped them. "In fact, I actually very much hate it. It makes me sick to taste it. Even the thought of it makes me want to puke."

  
"Hmmm that had to have made earlier a little uncomfortable."

  
James laughed. "You have no idea. I thought I was going to hurl all across the stage in front of everyone. That would have been an experience. I guess my dislike for chocolate started when I was really little. My mom was... not a very good cook. My dad did most of the cooking, but she could make a mean chocolate dump cake. Every year for my birthday, she'd make me that same chocolate cake, big old ugly thing that tasted amazing. One year, I think I was... probably 8 or so? I ate the whole thing right before my birthday party in one sitting. I was throwing up frosting and cake for hours after that. Ruined the whole party. Ever since then, I just can't stomach chocolate anymore. Stupid huh?"

  
Steve laughed, shaking his head at him. "Nah, not stupid. Sometimes memories like that can really trigger bad reactions. Like.. me. I can't take oral thermometers. Believe it or not, I was not always this big and charming. I used to be very tiny and sickly all the time. I spent more time in my mom's medical wing than in school it seemed with a thermometer stuck in my mouth more times than I could remember. Now I can't use them. It just triggers bad memories for me. I have to use those ear thermometers now. You know, the digital ones?"

  
James looked over at him, surprised. "No way you used to be skinny. You're like the All American Beefcake, Steve."

  
"I'll have mom show you the pictures. She'd love to do that." Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I was small and sickly probably 90% of the time. Somehow, when puberty hit, hormones thought "Yeah he's had enough, let's make him absolutely huge" and I shot up like 2 feet in high school. I joined the track team, still have the best track hurdle record in my high school, and then I picked up the discus throw. I almost went to Nationals for discus with a 310 foot throw. Jesus, I think I had recruiters on my doorstep every other week. But I gave it up to go into writing."

  
"Shit, Steve you know you could have gone real far in athletics with a throw like that. You could have been insanely famous."

  
Steve shrugged. "I could have, yeah. But I didn't want that. Besides, I still have a few health issues that could have barred me from getting too far. I don't really suffer from it much, but I still have lingering asthma symptoms every now and again. And I'm colorblind. My hearing leveled itself out to the point I don't have to wear hearing aids anymore, but.. sometimes at work, if it seemed like I wasn't listening to you.. I legitimately missed what you said."

  
James looked up at him, feeling a pang of guilt. "Jesus, I didn't know that.. I'm sorry, Steve." he murmured, feeling legitimately horrible for snapping at Steve so many times over what he had had no idea was a hearing problem. When Steve waved off his apology with a smile, James decided to drop it instead of dwelling on the past. He pondered quietly for a moment before smiling and deciding to change the subject. He'd thought of another fact about himself. "I watch Spongebob every Saturday morning while I"m on the treadmill."

  
Steve barked a laugh, looking at him incredulously. "Seriously?" He laughed, covering his mouth with a chuckle.

  
James shot him a glare that had no heat to it. "Oh shut up, Spongebob is hilarious. I really actually like Sandy Cheeks. She reminds me of me. Someone from another world that decided to implement her life where she wasn't fully suited for. And she's hilarious. She and Spongebob definitely have a thing going on."

  
"Oh my God, We're not shipping Spongebob and Sandy. Get your head out of the gutter!" Steve howled, slapping his thigh with his hand before looking at him. To his left, James was laughing loudly, leaned almost fully back in the saddle. He saw the long line of his throat, and his eyes fixated on the pulse point for a moment before he tore his gaze away. It was good to see James laugh. The man had an incredible laugh. "If anything, you're more like Squidward. Always so grumpy."

  
"I am not a tentacled freak, but if that's what you're into Steve..."

  
Steve snorted, shaking his head. "OK fine, You're not Squidward... Tony is Squidward."

  
"Yeah, I could see that." James snickered, looking over at Steve before beginning again. "And no we're not spending this whole ride comparing your friends to Spongebob characters."

  
"Thank God, Because that would be weird. I don't think I could look at them all seriously next time I'm home for Christmas."

  
The two of them fell silent for a moment before James' face fell. His mind wandered to the last holiday he spent, alone of course, and a sigh left him. "I haven't celebrated Christmas in over 10 years. The last Christmas party I went to was in sophomore year of college, and it was a frat party. No presents, no food, no.. holiday cheer. Just drinking until people were fall down drunk, and walking home alone in the snow with a vodka buzz, a bad mood and the promise of a hangover for Christmas. Since then I spend my Christmases with a glass of wine, cheap take away, and watching "It's a Wonderful life". Last Christmas, I spent it with my usual routine.. only this time, I don't know what hit me.. but i just started to cry when George offered Mary to give her the moon. It was the first Christmas in a 10 year run that I didn't finish the film."

  
Steve looked over at him, his face falling as he spotted the forlorn look on James' face. He didn't want to see that look on his face. "Really..? Why?"

  
James shook his head, looking down at the horse's mane in front of him. "That part I'm not really ready to talk about yet." he murmured, looking up at him. "You can probably remember that the next day, I was more ornery than usual."

  
Steve nodded, thinking back a few months to the day after Christmas. James had been particularly venomous that day, and yelled at Carol to throw the flowers she'd gotten from her husband that Christmas, away. It sort of clicked in his mind. "You haven't dated anyone in a long time have you?"

  
James stiffened a little. "That's bordering on the uncomfortable conversation territory and we'll get back to that at a later date. But I will say this." James hedged, wondering if he should be really saying this. He opted, instead, to stretch the truth for Steve's sake. "I haven't been with anyone... since that Christmas frat party..."

  
Steve stared at him, absolutely boggled. "You haven't dated anyone in 10 years?"

  
James nodded, still staring at the horse's neck as they rode, and continued to weave this white lie. "10 years. At first I was OK with it. Then I just.. wasn't. But it was so long, I just didn't know how to get back into the whole.. dating thing. I tried once, probably 4 years ago. By then, everyone knew I was a raging prick, but.. this one person was willing to give me a shot. Even went out and tried to buy flowers for my date. But.. the only shop that was open was a shop close to a funeral parlor and all they had left were white lilies...the same flowers that were all over the funeral parlor during my parents' wake. I freaked out, bailed on my date, and then.. that was it. Now since then, the thought of dating scares the hell out of me and I can't even look at flowers in the house without thinking of funerals and a failed relationship that could have been "the one", you know?" He stopped talking, realizing he was spilling way more than he really should. "You probably think I'm a freak now, don't you? Most people do..."

  
"Well I always thought that.. actually.. I think you're less of a freak now than you were before." Steve murmured. he was pretty sure the sentiment was awkward and badly delivered but.. the smile it got on James' face was comforting at least. "I won't press on your love life anymore. If you're ready to talk about it, though.... I"m listening."

  
James looked up at him, his smile falling into a bit of wonder before it crept back up his face and he huffed. "You're just all kinds of amazing, aren't you."

  
Steve smiled, shaking his head at him. "I'm just really good with people. If it's.. if it's any consolation to you.. now that I'm getting to know you, I think you're pretty amazing too. Even if you have the temper of a cobra, you've actually pretty awesome. You're very smart, you've got a lot of unique, charming little things about you... and you're very.. VERY handsome."

  
James smiled at him, biting the corner of his lip before looking away. He was glad for the pink overtones of the twilight around them. He could tell he was blushing. He jarred back to himself when his horse stumbled on a rock, and his knees tightened around the barrel of her body. A hand shot out and caught his shoulder, and James looked up to see Steve watching him carefully. "We're good. She just tripped." he murmured, not really meeting his gaze.

  
They fell silent again, just enjoying the other's company before one last fact came to James. He looked up at Steve and swallowed. This one was a secret to EVERYONE, one that he didn't like sharing. The one and only person he'd ever told, well.. that particular person didn't take too well to it. No one else in college even knew this, and with having no friends now, he had no one to share this with. But.. now was as good a time as any. "... I enjoy dancing."

  
Steve didn't move for a second, and James thought that he hadn't heard him. He opened his mouth to repeat the fact, when Steve looked up at him, his face slack of reaction. "Dancing?"

  
James nodded, looking down at the horse's whithers between his legs and he sighed. "Yeah. My all time favorite movie is "Dirty Dancing". Even more than "It's a Wonderful Life". The movie came out when I was born, and my mother loved it. My dad had brought a copy over from the States for her after a trip back home, and she fell in love with it." James snorted slightly. "She thought Patrick Swayze was hot. I grew up watching the movie, and when I was 7, I started copying the dance moves in it. I loved the movie and the dancing so much, I begged my parents for dancing lessons for my 13th birthday. I studied in different styles of dance right up through college, though I started taking them in private during my sophomore year. I still occasionally go in for dance classes at the local studio when they offer like.. month long courses or something like that.. No one else knows. No one has ever really known except my parents and they took that secret to the grave with them."

  
Steve listened, his heart melting a little as he processed this last bit of information. At the mention of James' father, though, Steve blinked. "Your dad took a trip back home..? What do you mean?"

  
James looked up at him, a cynical smile crossing his lips. "This is where irony bites me in the ass. My dad was an American soldier. Born and raised in Brooklyn. He was stationed with his Commandos in Kosovo when he met my mother. She was on a weekend trip from Russia when they met in a small restaurant. Dad was so smitten by her, he gave up his military career to marry her and move to St. Petersburg to be with her. And before you ask, he went the extra mile and renounced his American citizenship... Royally fucked up my chances of making this easy." James trailed off again, thinking back to his quiet and, frankly, lonely childhood. "That explains why I never really had any family to fall back on when my parents died. Dad's relatives were pissed that he defected out of the country and stopped talking to him... and mom's didn't want anything to do with ME because I wasn't a purebred Russian. I'm Half Russian, half Irish and they HATED that." A small smile crossed his lips so small and feeble it looked sickened. "People wonder if I changed my last name when I moved over here. That never happened. Dad kept his surname when he moved. But I did change my first..." James bit his lip and inhaled sharply. This was it. "You'll be the first American to know this: My real name is Yasha Barnes. Yasha is... Russian for James."

  
Steve stared ahead of himself in wonder at all this information. There was.. SO MUCH MORE to James than he'd ever realized. He felt like he was missing out on so much of this one individual's life, and he'd worked with him for 2 fucking years. He didn't speak, didn't comment on any of it. Just.. processed.

  
James looked at him a little worriedly. "You uh.. You still with me?" He asked, wondering if he'd overstepped some boundary by spilling too much about his life.

  
Steve nodded, looking up at him with a small smile. "Yeah.. I'm still here." He murmured. They rode in silence, just letting their knees bump into each other's as the horses swayed down the path. To their left, Cap snuffled about some underbrush, completely oblivious to the conversation that had ensued, trotting along next to James' horse at a friendly pace. The silence was thick, but not uncomfortable. Steve and James kept casting glances at each other, darting their eyes away every time they were each caught. Steve smiled to himself. This was nice. Very nice, actually. James had this little smile on his lips that he couldn't stop staring at, and his posture was much more relaxed. "I'd... I'd like to see you dance sometime." He murmured, smiling at James with a lightness in his eyes.

  
James looked up at him, meeting his gaze fully before he broke his somber expression to grin. "OK. Sometime..."

  
They fell back into a silence again, but this time it was much shorter. After a few moments, Steve cleared his throat, working up the nerve to do it. When he did, his voice cracked, but... he just couldn't stop.

  
_"I've been meaning to tell you_  
_I've got this feelin' that won't subside_  
_I look at you and I fantasize_  
_You're mine tonight_  
_Now I've got you in my sights..."_

  
James looked over at Steve, recognizing the lyrics of the song. Steve was horribly out of tune; couldn't carry it with a handle if he tried. But he couldn't help but giggle slightly at the words, realizing that Steve was making a connection by referencing the one scene from Dirty Dancing that had turned James' heart into the love of the dance. He chimed into the song with Steve, the two of them singing into the quiet Alaskan wilderness together.

  
_"With these hungry eyes_  
_One look at you and I can't disguise_  
_I've got hungry eyes_  
_I feel the magic between you and I..."_

 

* * *

 

The Song at the end of the chapter!:

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KeT5-lw381E>

 

And apparently Chris never rides horses. I couldn't find one of him on a horse, dammit. But here's Sebastian on horseback, and the type of horse that was described in the story:

Here's what Steve's Horse looks like:

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dammit, now I want to write a Stucky AU of Dirty Dancing... damn my references!
> 
> Edit: I noticed this morning that there were a lot of typos in this chapter, continuity errors and lines that just sounded awkward, as I was reading over this chapter. I was pretty tired when I wrote it, But wanted to get the story going again after a quick break. I've fixed what I could on my phone, but if there are lines that are overlapping or look funky from the way my phone was deleting whole words during the edit, let me know so I can fix them. Again, story is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.


	6. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an unfortunate run in with Steve the next morning, James has some one-on-one time with Mama Rogers and Aunt Peggy, and some of the truth of his past comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has SO MUCH FEELS, YO! Warning ahead, there will be lots of heartbreak in this chapter. Be prepared, the story is going to have more and more recurring moments of sadness in it as the story progresses, but I promise, my flock, it WILL get better!

James stirred in the bed, pressing his face into the soft pillow with a tired groan. He'd long since missed his usual run time that morning, but after the late night he and Steve had had, he felt he deserved to sleep in a little bit. However, Cap must have come into the room and bumped the curtains blocking out the sunlight. A small band of light crept across the bed, striking James across the eyes. He blinked to himself, rousing after a few minutes of fighting the inevitable before he yawned hugely and turned over. Sitting up, he stretched his arms above his head, cracking his shoulders one by one before scrubbing his fingers through his dark hair with a sleepy grumble. "Steve.. you there?" he muttered, looking over the edge of the bed. But when he did, there was no Steve. The blankets and pillow his employee was using were folded and propped at the end of the bed, signaling that Steve was out that morning. A quick glance at the clock had James noting the time. 9:45 am. He didn't usually sleep in that late, but considering the hectic few days they'd had, he didn't fault himself for the extra snooze.

  
He slumped back into the bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment as his mind mulled over the events of the previous night. By the time he and Steve had returned home, it was well past 11pm. They were both sore at the thighs from straddling the horses for so long, but otherwise satisfied after their long talk. James smiled to himself, thinking of Steve and his laugh, his understanding nature and the abject willingness to help him even after everything. Dare he say, he was starting to see why everyone loved Steve so much. That heart of his was too big for his body. His eyes were bright and sharp and full of care. His face strikingly handsome. James smiled to himself, closing his eyes to recapture the image in his brain and store it away.

  
Rubbing his hand over his face, he felt a light sheen of oil on his forehead from sweating in his sleep, and he grimaced. "Gross.. I need a shower..." he grumbled, slipping from the bed. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and frowned. Dark hair stuck up in wild spikes, his under eyes puffy from sleeping in, and his t-shirt rumpled and riding up his waist. He looked like a mess. He had to hurry before Steve got back. Digging through his suitcase, James grabbed a pair of grey dress pants, and a white button up shirt. Sure Steve had warned him to wear more casual clothing during the trip but.. he wanted to look nice today. No particular reason that had anything to do with Steve. Of course not. He just felt the urge, and if Steve noticed, bonus points. Grabbing the clothing, he set it on the edge of the bed in a neat stack with his undergarments and shoes. He grabbed his towel and toiletries to head into the bathroom, leaving the door propped open.

  
Once the bathroom was warm and steamy, he stripped out of his clothing and stepped into the shower. Letting the pounding water run over his body, he washed his hair, closing his eyes as he focused on the relaxing massage of his scalp, trying incredibly hard to not think of his own fingers as a certain blond's. He quietly berated himself for those traitorous thoughts, though it never really stopped them from flowing into his head. He was supposed to be striking a deal to scheist the government, not actually falling in love with his assistant. But damn himself for doing just that and tumbling hard and fast. His heart was good at falling in love. It's what got him into trouble all those years ago. Shaking his head, he tried to distract himself from his thoughts of Steve and began to hum a quiet tune under his breath as he bathed. After a final rinse off, he carded his fingers through his now clean hair and felt satisfied with the results. He opened the shower door and stepped out, reaching for the towel that he had hung up on the rack to wait for him. But just as he did, Cap came bursting into the room, yapping loudly at him with his tail all a flutter.

  
James yelped, jumping back from Cap. Of course, this caused him to slip on the damp tiles of the bathroom floor, and his arms shot out to catch himself before he fell. In doing so, he did save himself a nasty tumble, but his towel went straight into the shower, landing with a wet "plop" into the still draining puddle in the shower stall. "Dammit." He sighed, staring at his now soaked towel with a heavy frown. "Thanks Cap. I kind of needed that." Cap lowered his head and whined at James, his tail drooping between his legs. James, now standing completely stark naked in the bathroom, began to rummage around the bathroom looking for an extra towel. Of course, there were none. "Great." He sighed, trying to think. He could just put his clothes on while wet, but it would be extremely uncomfortable if he had to wear them damp all day. Then he remembered the armoire outside the bathroom door and immediately slipped over to try and find an extra towel inside.

  
No dice. The armoire had been emptied for laundry it seemed and was barren before him. "Shit!" He hissed, looking to the bedroom door for a moment. Steve could literally come back at any moment and see him standing naked there, and God how would that look? He sighed, and thumped his head against the wood of the door for a moment, trying to think.

  
That's when he heard Cap yapping at him, and he looked up. Cap was standing in the hallway, wagging his tail and darting looks down the hallway a little. Confused, James made his way over to the door to see what Cap was looking at, covering his dignity with nothing but a hand towel. That's when he saw the linen closet down the hall a ways. A smile broke across his face as he realized Cap knew exactly what he needed. "Thanks Lassie." he grinned down at the wolf-dog. Now... now was the problem of getting TO the linen closet and grabbing a towel before someone saw him. Peeking down the hallway towards the stairs he frowned and listened closely, trying to determine if anyone was coming near. He didn't hear footsteps, nor see any shadows. Perhaps everyone was out already. Deciding to take his chances, he inhaled deeply and bolted down the hallway, his wet feet slipping on the wooden floor. He made it without being spotted, luckily, and a triumphant smile crossed his face.

  
That is, until he tried the handle and found it wouldn't budge. Cursing loudly, James shook the handle for a moment, as if the door would open out of sheer will-power. It didn't. He glared at the door for a moment before he heard voices near the stairs, and he froze. Sarah and Joe were talking and laughing, and a third voice chimed in. Aunt Peggy. She was here?! "Fuck fuck fuck!" James hissed, turning from the linen closet. Abort mission! He really was loathe of the idea, but he'd have to use his sleep clothes to dry himself off it seemed. Anything was better than dear, sweet old Peggy seeing his God given shame on display.

  
He bolted as he heard the voices coming closer, hand reaching for the door of the bedroom and to safety. But just as he lunged for the handle, Cap bolted between himself and the door frame, knocking into him. His hand holding the cover over his dick shot out to catch himself and the hand towel went flying. He stumbled through the doorway without any sort of grace whatsoever, and knew the day just couldn't get worse if someone found him sprawled on the floor, buck ass fucking naked.

So, it of course got worse.

  
Just as he went flying through the doorway, he ran smack into a solid brick wall of equally naked flesh. The force with which he barreled through the doorway sent him stumbling as he ran smack into Steve, the two of them sprawling backwards. Steve shouted in surprise and his heel caught on the edge of the rug. This sent them both domino-ing to the floor in a tangle of legs and arms, where James landed on top of Steve with a squawk, bracing his hands on the floor. Then everything stopped. James stared down at Steve with a look of shock on his face. A wild, impossibly inappropriate thought entered his head, and he found himself blushing dark red at the knowledge that feeling Steve's bare skin against his own was BEYOND hot... Then his face melted from shock to horror. Steve returned the gesture before they both realized....

"OH MY GOD, WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!" They both shouted in unison. James scrambled off of Steve and tried to crawl away, but the now substantial puddle he'd left on the ground made him slip as they tried to disentangle themselves. Steve, for his part, shoved James' legs off of himself and scurried away to grab at the towel he'd been carrying. James had no such coverage and simply yanked the blanket off of the bed, wrapping his waist up in the cloth before staring up at Steve. Steve did NOT look happy. "What the hell were you doing, walking around naked?!" James demanded, feeling his cheeks turning deep red.

  
"What am.. I COULD ASK YOU THE SAME THING. Why the HELL were you running around the HALLWAY, naked and dripping wet?!" Steve shouted, gesturing at the door wildly and waiting for an answer.

  
"I was.. I was trying to get a towel, Cap scared the hell out of me when I got out of the shower and I dropped mine into the water. The armoire was empty!" James explained, feeling ungodly embarrassed.

  
"You.. James! There are towels under the bathroom sink too! Jesus Christ, My 90 year old AUNT is here! Are you trying to give her a heart attack?!" Steve snapped, wrapping his towel more securely around his waist. He heard James splutter, trying to explain himself. Instead, Steve held a hand up to silence him, and stalked into the bathroom. Grabbing a towel from beneath the sink, he threw it at James and gave a pointed look at his shoulder. On the left deltoid muscle, a large red star was inked into James' skin. In the middle of the star was a black creature that looked like a skull adorned with tentacles, and to the tattoo's right, another line of ink was etched into his left collarbone. Cyrillic lettering spanned the length of the bone from the hollow of his throat to his shoulder, a sharp contrast of black against pale white, like a beacon on his body. "Nice ink by the way. I didn't take you for the punk rocker look, JAMES." He snapped, slamming the door shut and barring them from each other.

  
James stared at the now locked door of the bathroom with mortification written across his face. He plucked up the towel from the floor and sighed, feeling like  the Earth deserved to open up and swallow him whole. Not only had he embarrassed himself, he'd pissed off Steve too. Great. This day was shaping up to be wonderful. He sulked to himself as he grabbed his clothing and stepped into the side room to change, glancing down at his tattoos with a mixture of shame and anger. Fucking good morning, James... However, he was so preoccupied with his thoughts, he'd stomped off just before the bathroom door creaked open, and he failed to see Steve watching him.

  
Steve peeked out from the space and stared at James as he left the room. He watched the now empty room for a moment before sighing and closing the door to lean against the wood. He caught sight of his reflection and groaned. He was blushing dark red, all the way down his neck to his chest until he was a dark pink splotch. Steve kicked himself as he felt his heart racing against his chest at the thought of James pressed up against him fully naked. He could feel the phantom outline of James' cock lined up against his thigh and he groaned. "Not now... this can't happen..." He murmured to himself. But as he told himself no, the raging hard-on he had beneath the towel told him otherwise.

  
This wasn't safe. James couldn't possibly have any sort of feelings for him other than business and mutual respect. This whole weekend was turning out to be dangerous. He couldn't let himself fall in love with his boss. One heart to heart discussion of open feelings didn't change everything he'd gone through with him. Hell, one whole weekend couldn't do that.

  
So why was he feeling like his world was finally turning right-side up every chance he looked at him?

  
~*~

  
"Oh, James, come look at this picture!" Aunt Peggy cooed, pointing at the photo album in her lap. She patted the cushion next to her as she glanced over the images splayed out before her.

Curious, James did as he was told and sat down next to the woman. When he glanced at the pictures, a huge smile crossed his lips. "Is that Steve?" He asked, reaching over and plucking an old picture from it's slot in the page. Aunt Peggy had been invited over for Saturday brunch that weekend, mostly to spend more time with Steve and James before they were to return to New York on Monday night. The five of them had enjoyed a filling meal, complete with a bottle of white wine, and plenty of laughter as they talked about the upcoming wedding. James had easily evaded the topic of what they should have had in mind for a ceremony by explaining that they had been so swamped at work, with being engaged so recently, they hadn't had a chance to really plan anything. That sent Aunt Peggy and Sarah into a tizzy of excitement. Sarah had immediately shot up from her seat to fetch her photo albums for ideas on her son's wedding, shooing both Steve and Joe into the kitchen to clean up. When Steve protested, she socked him in the shoulder and defended the brunet.

  
"Steven Grant Rogers, James was kind enough to help us pack up the party food last night, the least you can do is go do the dishes!" She intoned, pressing her fists to her waist. That got Steve to shut up and scurry from the room with his father, leaving the three of them to marvel over the old images. Sarah had grabbed an album of Steve's childhood, eager to show her son's fiancé the images of her child growing up. As he sat next to Peggy and admired Steve's pictures, she spent her time flipping through her old wedding albums and plucking out polaroids right and left to use as reference for the upcoming ceremony.

  
James marveled at the old memories of Steve. He hadn't been kidding when he said he was a tiny boy. Even at 12 years old, Steve had been a wee little thing, with scrawny legs and arms, a mop of dirty blond hair on his head and huge plastic framed glasses perched on his nose. But the smiles he saw in those photos.. they were genuine, and they were beautiful. The picture he was currently holding in his hand was of Steve wearing a baseball uniform three sizes too big for himself, but the glee on his features was infectious. He sort of wished he could have seen the real thing. "He was so cute. What happened to him?" He asked, grinning up at Sarah.

  
Sarah laughed,waving her hand as she continued to add photos to her pile. "He grew up and decided to become all 'mature'. Not that I am not proud of him every day, but sometimes I miss my little sweetpea." She said. "God decided to be kind to him after all the ills he went through as a child, and granted him his life back. And now with you.. he's got everything he could ever want."

  
James blushed, looking down at the images in his lap before he took the album from Peggy. He felt the old woman's eyes on him as he flipped through the pages, soaking up the pictures with a sombre little expression on his face. So much history in Steve's life, laid out before him and living on, every day. He wished he could say the same for himself. He didn't have photos of himself, or his meager childhood. Not anymore. Not after the...

  
"James? Are you alright?" Peggy asked, reaching out and pressing a whithered hand to his shoulder. He looked up at her and offered a weak smile, shaking his head.

  
"Yes. I'm fine. Just... I hope I'm just another good memory in Steve's life. Another good life event. He looked so happy here." He said, gesturing to the pictures.

  
Sarah looked up from her photos and regarded James carefully. "He IS happy with you now, Bucky." She murmured, smiling at him as she used the falsified nickname Steve had given him. He looked up at her and stared, feeling his heart racing in his chest. Yesterday he'd hated the nickname. Now.. it just sounded sweet. "Don't give me that look, young man. I'm a mother, I know when my child is happy."

  
He nodded, smiling a little at her before looking down at the pages in his lap. "Yeah... I'm happy too."

  
The three of them fell into silence. While Sarah turned her attention back to her photos, Peggy kept her eyes locked on James' form. Something clicked in the old woman's sharp mind, and she cleared her throat. "So James.. when will we get to meet your parents? I'm sure they know the happy news already?"

  
He stiffened in his seat, looking up at Sarah and Peggy. They were regarding him carefully, waiting for his answer. He didn't want to tell them. How could he? He'd only just ruin the perfectly good mood of the day. Then again, from the way Peggy was staring at him, he knew the old woman was aware there was something wrong in James' life. He couldn't pull one past her. She was too brilliant. Swallowing thickly, he met their gazes carefully before staring at the photos in his lap. "They're not coming to the wedding..." he murmured.

Sarah gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "Is it that they don't approve?" She asked, looking scandalized. "How could they not approve? Their son is getting married! It's the happiest day of all. There has to be a reason, James."

  
He nodded, his fingers tightening around the pages. He couldn't bring himself to say it. Just as he felt his fingers beginning to tremble, a hand rested on his elbow again, and he looked up to see Peggy staring at him... KNOWINGLY. "They passed away, didn't they?" she asked quietly. To her left, Sarah went silent, her eyes wide in shock before she put her book down and immediately got to her feet. The blond woman made her way over and sat on James' right, resting her hand on the small of his back.

  
James wanted to move away from her. He hated getting pity from people when they heard the tragic story of how he'd become an orphan in one fell swoop. But instead of shying away from her touch, he found himself actually FEELING it. The touch wasn't pity or shame for him. It was real. Actual genuine feelings and heartache for his loss. He looked up at her for a moment before offering a weak smile as his heart clenched in his chest.

  
"Yeah.. they did. I was 17 years old when they died." He murmured, staring at the book in his hands. "I had just started University then, and was the youngest enrolled freshman at the time. It was... winter break, and I'd just gone home to visit my parents that year. I was home for three days before they died." he swallowed thickly, his mind running over the events of that fateful night...

  
_December 24th, 2004. Yasha had spent the evening with old school friends, catching up after his first semester in University, and generally enjoying the tail end of his teenage years. Some of them were still in secondary school going on their 12th year, while he'd begun tertiary schooling. His parents had been so proud of him. They'd even gone out and bought him gifts as congratulations for his successful first semester, and he still had two days of gift giving to look forward to. Yasha considered himself lucky, on all accounts. While he grew up with just his parents as family and no extended relatives to celebrate the holidays with, he had plenty of friends, and they jealously only got to enjoy one Christmas. His papa had carried over, from the States, the tradition of Jesus' birth occurring on the 25th of December, while his mama upheld that HER holiday traditions occurred on the 7th of January. Lucky for Yasha, he grew up with two Santa days to look forward to._

  
_Nearly a week after returning to St. Petersburg, he'd been invited out with his friends to spend the evening just enjoying city nightlife. After promising he'd be back before midnight and be well rested for their usual day of celebrations, Yasha had left for the evening to spend his time reconnecting with friends and enjoying a few drinks. He_ _had lost track of time as the teen spent the night gallivanting around the city in the snow with his friends. It had actually taken a companion of his mentioning how late it was and that he'd have to leave and prepare for work the next day, before he noticed the late hour. Yasha glanced down at his watch, realizing it was well past midnight. What worried him, however, was the fact that his mama had not called him once to check on him. Usually, the poor woman worried over her son incessantly, and called him periodically when he was out to make sure he was warm and safe. There was not one missed call on his phone._

  
_Feeling uneasy about that, Yasha had dismissed himself from his friends and set off through the snowy streets to head home. The snow was falling thickly now, and there were few people out at this time of night. However, as he made his way through the streets, that feeling of dread began to settle deeper in his stomach. He'd tried calling his parents to tell him he'd lost the time and was heading home now, but neither of them answered. In fact, both of their phones went straight to voicemail, and the house-line rang and rang out with no response._ _Yasha had picked up his pace, beginning to jog through the snow to find his way home. But as he grew closer, the smell of something burning reached his nose and his heart thudded heavily in his chest. That smell.. it was coming down from the street where his parents house was. As he rounded a street corner, a tall pillar of dark black smoke was ebbing up into the snowy sky, and he began to panic. Sirens were filling the air as he grew closer to his home, and the distant sound of shouting accented the wailing cries._

_'No, no no!' he'd thought to himself, running full tilt down the street. When he turned the final corner, his blood drained from his face. His house. It was engulfed in flames, and the entirety of the St. Petersburg Fire squad was outside his house. "NO!" He cried, bolting for the line of people that stood outside his home, watching the fire._ _He felt himself grabbed by a fire patrolman and yanked back. "Нет, пусть меня! Мои родители там!" (NO, LET ME IN. MY PARENTS ARE IN THERE!) he'd shrieked at the patrolman, fighting against his grip. The man simply hustled him back from the danger zone and shoved him into the crowd, where he was held back by two police officers. "Пожалуйста, я должны помочь им !" (Please, I have to help them!) Yasha wailed, watching in horror as the men fought in vain against the blaze._

  
_Within minutes, the roof collapsed into the house, the fire roaring into the snowy sky like an inferno. He knew his parents were dead. There was no way they could have survived the magnitude of that fire. Yasha broke down into tears, screaming into the snowy night while the police held him back from running into the inferno to join them. "MAMA! MAMA, PAPA!" he sobbed, his tears freezing to his reddened face as he watched the last of his childhood burn away with the loss of his parents._

  
_The next morning, Yasha spent his holiday in the police department, staring at a pathetic little tree and a set of old Matryoshka dolls sitting on a shelf across from him. His chest was empty, tears dried up as he wrung his coat in his hands. He was waiting for the definite answer of what had caused the blaze. He felt hollow with grief, wondering what the hell he was going to do. His parents.. they were gone. This wasn't fair... They were supposed to see his dance recital in February. They were supposed to be there, waking him up with a full breakfast and cries of "Happy Christmas!" Not scorched corpses in the remains of what had been his home for almost 2 decades. What the hell had he done to Jesus to piss him off on his day of birth and take his parents away from him?_

  
_His parents were never going to see him find a lover and marry._

  
_The last of his tears found their way to his eyes and spilled down his cheeks as a dry sob left him. He clutched his hands over his face and cried, listening vaguely as the police came with the final report. His mama had been baking late at night to have a vanilla almond-flour dump cake ready for her sweet boy to enjoy the next morning, when the gas line to the stove had exploded. She'd been engulfed immediately and died. His papa, on the other hand, had tried in vain to save her, only to be swallowed up by the blaze. They were both dead before the house had even been consumed._

  
_Yasha cried for days after he received the final verdict of his parents' deaths. He'd been given condolences by his friends, and buried his parents on the 7th of January._

  
_He spent the entire next year grieving for their loss. He'd completed his dance recital with a heavy heart and his first year of school with no parents to welcome him home. The following holiday, Yasha spent it in a University dorm room, drinking his heartbreak away with a poisonous man's arm around him that felt like a lead weight, rather than the comfort of love that he'd wanted; the man whom had clutched a fist at him and swung when Yasha had denied him his bed that evening. (No... Don't think of Brock. Don't do it. He didn't need to think of the man he stayed with for three loveless years; a final straw that had hardened his heart for good.)_

  
_That year had been his last celebration, starting his pitiful Christmas ritual trying to forget about a holiday that would never bring him cheer again..._

  
James inhaled sharply as he recounted most of the memory to Sarah and Peggy, conveniently leaving out the details of his Russian heritage. It was a safety precaution for Steve's sake... to keep up the charade of his Americanism while he could. His shoulders were shaking slightly and he cleared his throat, pinching the corners of his eyes to ward off the tears that tried to fall. He looked up when he heard a sniff, only to see Sarah's eyes bright red and shining. Wet tracks were running down her cheeks as she listened to him tell his tragic story, and she sniffled, pulling him into a tight hug.

  
"Oh James.. I'm so sorry." she murmured, holding him close. "To lose your parents on Christmas eve.. Oh my poor boy." She said, shoulders quaking as she cried.

  
His throat felt tight, and he looked over at Peggy. The old woman had matching tears in her eyes, and a frail hand took his, giving his fingers a squeeze. She knew, however, what James wans't telling them, and her eyes flickered to the collar of his white button up hiding the Cyrillic on his clavicle. "That phrase.. it's what your parents said to you, isn't it?"

  
He nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. "Yeah.. they said that to me all the time. That no matter what happened, they would always be with me. I had to pay under the table to get it inked, but.. it was worth it." he murmured, staring down at the pages in front of him.

  
Sarah pulled away from James and cupped his cheek, smiling a watery smile at him before she spoke. "Rest assured, James.. you are family now. You have a family again, and we will love you just as much as you have been missing out on, all these years."

  
James shook his head at her words, feeling a little overwhelmed by the sentiment. "No, Sarah. That's... I'm just a fiancé. I'm not... I'm not family."

  
"Yes you are!" Peggy spoke emphatically, gripping his hand tighter. "I can promise you, James Barnes, that you are as much a part of this family as I am. You won't be the only one out of the Rogers bloodline that is welcome with open arms." Peggy let go of him, and gestured to herself.

  
James looked up at her, confusion written across his features. "What do you mean?" He asked, looking to Sarah for clarification.

  
The blond woman smiled, dabbing at her eyes carefully. "What she means is, the Rogers Family has welcomed many lonely people into their lives, including Peggy. She's just as much Steve's aunt as she is my mother's best friend and my own mentor."

  
James stared at them in surprise, his brows shooting up over his pink face. "You're not really Steve's aunt?"

  
Peggy laughed. "I'm the whole town's Aunt Peggy. I moved to America from the United Kingdom when I was a young woman. I spent a few years in Boston before I found my calling to teach English in Sitka. Since then, I have taken many families under my wing, and have been subsequently welcomed into their lives. This is important for you, James." Peggy took the photo album from James' lap and gripped both of his hands in hers. "Blood doesn't always necessarily make you family. Family consists of the people that make you feel loved, secure and happy and will always accept you for who you are. They keep you safe and warm and grateful to see the sunrise the next day. Family is in the heart, not the gene pool, darling. Believe me... You are our family now."

  
James' stomach clenched at her words, and his eyes grew fuzzy with tears. A huge smile crossed his lips as he watched the old woman. Huffing a breathy laugh, he pulled Peggy into a gentle hug, and felt Sarah wrap her arms around his waist, hugging him from behind. He soaked up the affection from both of them, squeezing his eyes shut. The bubble in his chest, he soon recognized, was happiness. Sheer, unadulterated happiness.

  
That happiness was almost immediately squashed as his conscience reminded him exactly what he was doing to these poor people. He'd opened up his tragic past to them, let them welcome and love him... and he didn't deserve any of it because he was a liar and a sociopath who had blackmailed their son into helping him trick his way into the country. The clench in his belly was no longer from happiness. This was guilt, plain and simple.

  
He realized exactly why God had taken his mama and papa away from him. He deserved it. Every ounce of heartache and sadness he'd had in his life... it was all preemptive as punishment for this one moment. Because as much as he wanted to spill the truth to them and admit "I'm a liar. I'm evil, and I'm going to break your son's heart", he couldn't do it. As much as he knew he had to tell these people the truth before he shattered them all, he was more afraid of losing the love he was feeling right now, no matter how brief it was. Yasha had been a selfish boy, wishing pain on all of his friends for the simple crime of still getting to keep their parents when he'd lost his. Yasha had been selfish when he found himself trying to drown his sorrows in the acid that was Brock... the man he'd never forget; the man who hurt him so badly he'd never love again.

  
Yasha was selfish then. James was no better, now.

  
A throat cleared from the doorway, and the three of them looked up to see Steve standing in the doorway. He had his gaze averted from them, and in his hand was his cell phone. "Bucky.. Uhm, Sam called. He said, he's inviting us to the watering hole as a sort of bachelor party before we head back on Monday. I said we'd come." He finally looked up at them to offer a small smile. But James saw the look on his face, the dampness in his eyelashes, and he knew he'd heard his story. James immediately nodded and glanced at the two women holding him.

  
"Is it alright if I go?" He asked, inhaling deeply to calm himself.

  
Sarah laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. Peggy stood, with James' help and patted his back. "Go. Go with Steve. You two deserve to have a happy afternoon." She'd said, watching as James nodded and made his way to Steve's side. The two of them didn't speak as they stepped out of the room and into the hallway. When they were alone, James rubbed his fingers beneath his eyes surreptitiously to hide the dampness still lingering, and looked up at Steve. "How much did you hear?" he asked, glancing up at him.

  
Steve didn't answer at first. But he reached out and took James' hand in his and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. "All of it."

  
James swallowed, staring at the floor as he was pulled from the hall to gather their jackets and leave the house. He wasn't just breaking his family, he realized. He was breaking Steve. As they left the house, the editor didn't look at him, his hands resting in loose fists in his lap as he rode with Steve into town. Whatever may come in his life, James knew he deserved a lifetime of hurt for everything he was doing.

* * *

 

 

Ok now that I've broken your hearts, have some eye candy:

Nekkid Steeb after being ran into by James... equally nekkid.

Yeah, James is totally looking at Steve's junk, all wet like that... ;D

 

I hope this helps!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drat, drat. I messed up two minor details in the last chapter that gave a grating continuity error to this one. Goes to show how important details are to plot huh? Lol! If you seem a little confused, I'll explain: James' parents died a decade ago, and this chapter alludes to his devolving into a loveless and domestically dangerous relationship that lasted for 3 years after their deaths. That's why he said he hasn't dated in 7 years. If you're still confused, let me know and I'll try to fix my dumb mistake. Woops!


	7. El Tango

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Steve go to a bachelor "party" thrown at the Roadhouse, by Steve's friends. James and Steve secretly realize they desire each other more than they thought, but inhibitions keep them from admitting it. James dances a Tango with Natasha, and when Steve's jealousy gets the better of him, it could cost him something very important...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Pete's sake, the more I write, the more this story deviates from the film. I think that's a good thing haha. 
> 
> This chapter took a lot longer to write because mainly... I'VE NEVER WRITTEN A DANCE SCENE BEFORE. And lo what did I choose to write? A Tango. Probably the most difficult style of dance to write for the emotional aspect of it. Yeesh, I'm dumb! Hopefully it turned out OK, however. I ran the scene past a few of my friends and they said it sounded good, but then they ARE my friends so they could just be being nice lol!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the scene. and please when you get to the end of the chapter...
> 
> I'm sorry. Don't kill me? *Hiding*

After that quiet ride into town, the two had finally fallen into a much more comfortable companionship. While James and Steve had not spoken to each other the entire drive, the tension fell away again when Steve parked the Jeep in front of Wade's shop. The store was closed, but a package sat outside the door with James' name written across it in bold, bubble letters and accompanied with red Sharpie hearts. James' phone had finally arrived, and while the editor had felt slightly awkward of the obvious crush the town's resident nut-case held for him, he had snatched the device eagerly from Steve's hand, fiddling with it to reset it the way his previous phone had been. He'd been so grateful for the fast service, he yanked Steve into a hug and thanked him repeatedly, his arms a firm vice around his shoulders.

  
With the device now properly set up and running, they'd strolled down the sidewalk side by side, chattering about nonsense as they walked towards the bar. James found he was surprised that this quiet little town housed such a boisterous looking roadhouse bar off the docks of the lake. People were scattered around outside, drinking and laughing amongst each other, and the music that emanated from the still closed doors was heavy with bass and lively rhythms. James had never been interested in the club scene but for the sake of their ruse, he could get by. He just hoped no one asked to dance with him. He never found the idea of mindless gyrations appealing. When they stepped inside, his eyes found the group at the far corner of the bar. He grabbed Steve's elbow and pointed, leaning up to talk over the din of the music. "There they are!" he shouted, diverting Steve's attention to the group.

  
Steve smiled, wrapping his arm around James' elbow to drag him to the far corner, where two chairs were left unaccompanied. "Hey guys. Sorry we're late, Bucky's phone came in the mail and he wanted to grab it before the eagles did."

  
"No worries, we thought we'd just grab a few drinks while we waited for you two." Sam reassured them, holding up his glass with a grin. "Pop a squat. Grab a beer."

James nodded, settling into a seat next to Steve. "So what's the plan for tonight? I'm not going to have to tabletop dance, right?"

  
"Nah, that's Steve's job." Maria giggled, leaning her shoulder into Sam's side before shrugging. "We thought we'd start the party off by just.. you know, talking to you, James. We didn't really get much of a chance to meet you when you first arrived. You looked dead on your feet after that trip, and then the next night was the party."

  
James frowned, watching her. "Oh I'm... I'm sure Steve told you a lot about me already.. This is really a weekend for both of us, not just me."

  
"Yeah, Steve kindly informed us you were a raging hell beast with no morals. Imagine our surprise when we didn't see any devil horns sprouting from your hair." Clint piped up. He earned a solid punch to the gut from Natasha, doubling up with a wheeze as he collapsed to the tabletop. "Ooww.. I regret my decision."

  
"As you should, Clinton Barton, that was rude!" Natasha growled, looking over at James with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about him... he has no filter."

  
"I have a filter!"

  
"You have 12% of a filter."

  
James flushed at the words and he glared up at Steve sharply. "Exactly how much did you tell them about me?" He asked, his question tinged with indignity. As much as he wanted to think that he and Steve were actually becoming friends at the very least, this was a stark reminder that they had but recently evolved from mortal enemies. Apparently, Steve had not been shy about exclaiming that fact to his friends and painting an ugly picture about him for two years. Embarrassment colored his cheeks dark red, hidden only by the low lights of the bar and the righteous glare directed towards his assistant.

  
"Uhh I think I'm gonna go get those beers now!" Steve croaked, his cheeks equally pink as he tried to change the subject. "I'll uh.. I'll be right back." With that, he pulled away from James' side and stood, straightening his jacket weakly before stepping away from the table.

  
"Smooth evasion, Rogers." Bruce grinned, rolling his gaze over Steve's retreating form. "Real smooth. I think I'll go flag down a few more rounds for us. All in favor say aye."

  
"Aye aye." Clint choked, slowly straightening himself up from the tabletop he had sprawled across. He held his stomach for a moment. "Just lemme go throw up and I'll be good to go."

  
"That's what you get for being a dick, Clint." Sam laughed, wrapping his arm around Maria's waist and hugging her close. "I have a second rum and coke calling my name, and plenty of dancing to come. Who's DJ-ing tonight?"

  
"Wade. It Saturday night, remember?" Natasha grinned up at James and winked. "Expect a lot of bumping and grinding going on. He's taken a shine to you, handsome."

  
"See, I knew he was all over me." James sighed, glancing up to see Steve standing with his back to them, talking to the bartender.

  
"Hey, that's the highest form of compliment you can get. Wade doesn't really like strangers all that much. If he takes a liking to anyone, usually it means you're on the A-list. He's the one person that wouldn't hesitate to talk shit to your face and run you out of town. If he likes you, then congratulations, you're an honorary member of our gang now."

  
James smirked at Natasha, noting her clothing. She was wearing a bright red dress with a keyhole cut in the bosom, and a black bolero jacket over the dress. The entire ensemble was accompanied with silver peep-toe heels on her delicate feet. She looked rather striking in the outfit, and he was hit with a sense of nostalgia as he thought of his last dance partner. The two had done a Latin number for a recital, and she'd worn a similar outfit at the time. "You look like you're here for real dancing."

  
"Actually, I am a dancer." she replied, smoothing her hands down the front of her skirt with a grin. "it's just a pity there aren't many people here that really know what they're doing."

  
James' face brightened as he watched her. "You dance? What a coincidence. I do too!" he beamed, turning to face her fully. "What forms have you studied in?"

  
She began to tick off the list on her fingers, grinning at him. "Ballet, Lyric, Pointe, I even dabbled in Ballroom for awhile. My absolute favorite, however, is Tango." A mutual grin crossed their faces at the mention of the word, and she smirked. "Oh oh.. I think we have a winner."

  
"That I think we do. Where's Steve, he's been dying to see some real moves." James laughed, looking over his shoulder to see where Steve had disappeared to with their beers. But when he looked up, he spotted Steve sitting on the barstool next to Sharon, the two of them laughing together as they threw back a pair of shots. His smile faltered as he watched the two of them reconnecting, and his shoulders slumped a little.

  
None of the group seemed to pick up on his frown, however. Clint cut into the silence and snorted. "Yeah, Steve and dancing do not mix. That idiot has two left feet, so be prepared to have your toes broken during your first dance at the wedding reception."

  
James looked back at them, his smile stiff as he nodded. "We'll pick a slow song. He can't possibly fuck that up." He joked, turning his attention away from Sharon and Steve. As he did, a voice spoke up over the speakers of the bar, calling attention to the front. Wade stood at the DJ table, waving his arms and urging people to congregate on the dance floor together, the music picking up pace with the thrumming bass of the music.

  
Ugh, this was definitely not his style. Electronic music had always been a musical thorn in his side, and he found himself frowning. He didn't really want to listen to this music, nor see Steve and Sharon cozying up to each other for that matter. "I'll be back. Just gonna go grab a smoke." he said to the others, standing up and shrugging back into his jacket. It took him a few moments, but he wove his way through the quickly amassing crowd towards the deck of the roadhouse, plucking his cigarette pack from his pocket.

  
The package was crumbled and the Lucky Strike logo over the plastic was torn, but the last cigarette inside was untouched, much to James' relief. He sighed to himself, stuffing the filter into his mouth and flicking the lighter, watching the tiny yellow flare with a blank expression on his features. After watching the flame for an uncomfortable moment, he lit up the tip of the cigarette with a sigh, inhaling the earthy musk of the smoke into his lungs and letting the nicotine soothe him. He puffed slowly on the cigarette, watching the tendrils ebb out over the water and feeling the cold air breaching the cover of his leather jacket. James honestly didn't know what was wrong with him. He kept repeating to himself, 'this isn't real. It's all a ruse'. Steve had no obligation to him, he'd even said so the night before. Regardless, he knew why the sight of Steve and Sharon laughing and talking again was making him feel so shitty. He didn't want to admit that he may be starting to feel something for Steve, because the minute he did was the minute he'd lose it all over again. He wouldn't be able to work as his boss while feeling emotionally for him, knowing deep down that Steve had his own relationship conquests on his agenda. This whole thing had turned out to be a horrible mistake...

  
James was so lost in his own thoughts, he didn't hear the door of the deck open. The sound of heels on the wooden deck caught his attention, however, and he looked up to see Natasha leaning against the railing next to him, her eyes cast out over the water. She silently extended her hand to him, and he gave her the cigarette, watching as she took a puff and passed it back to him.

  
"Everything OK, James?" She asked, looking up at him curiously.

  
He nodded, taking another puff on the cigarette before tapping out the ashes over the water. "Yeah.. I'm good. Just a little overwhelmed, I guess. I'm not used to being in a place like this, where everyone is so closely knit together. New York is busier, but it's a much more isolated lifestyle, especially when you're always pretty much alone."

  
Natasha nodded, looking over at him. Her eyes landed on the collar of his white dress shirt, noted the tattoo on his collarbone, and she smiled. "I get how that is. I was a loner too before I moved up here. It's definitely a change. But.. once you get used to it, it's the best feeling in the world. Being so closely tied to so many people on a daily basis... it feels like home."

  
James grunted in response, staring at the water for a moment. "I'm just.. really afraid I'm not what Steve's looking for. He was right.. I wasn't exactly the nicest person in the world. I'm still not. So why he felt so.. inclined to be with me after all that.. it's just mind boggling."

  
"You really don't see the way he looks at you, do you?" Natasha asked, grinning up at him. "I've known Steve for a few years now. Not as long as the others, but.. I know a person when I meet them. He cares a lot about you. So get that dumb idea out of your head that you're some fling, because you're not. Steve is a great guy.. hell, he's gorgeous both inside and out. He'd never do that to you, I can guarantee you that."

  
James watched Natasha as she preached, his eyes softening a little. He wanted, so badly, to just blurt out the truth to her and admit everything, scream it at the top of his lungs and just end this insanity before it got more out of control, but cowardice kept his tongue steady in his mouth. He swallowed thickly, nodding once before he leaned his hip against the railing of the dock. "I know... I'm lucky. I really am." And deep down, he knew he was as far from lucky as he possibly could be. He was beyond just STARTING to LIKE Steve at this point. He already did... way more than was healthy for them both. And that uncomfortable sensation he kept feeling in his stomach after every time he saw Sharon speak to, touch Steve, and generally just cozy up to him, was full fledged jealousy. Not just jealousy because it was the kind of intimacy he was craving in general. No, it was jealousy because it was STEVE being touched by a girl James barely knew. A girl who was probably a hundred times better for him than James could ever be. But he kept those thoughts to himself. Instead, he fueled the lie further, offering Natasha smile as he reassured her that he was alright.

  
Natasha grinned at him, punching him lightly in the shoulder before she shrugged out of her bolero jacket and beamed at him. It was time to get James to smile again. "So you said Steve was dying to see some real dancing right?" She asked. Plucking her phone out of her jacket pocket, she pulled up a playlist and showed James her selected piece. "I think this one would be perfect to show him."

  
He glanced down at the phone, reading the title of the song for a moment before he grinned hugely at her. "Oh that's perfect. That is beyond perfect." He murmured, giving her the phone back. It was a distraction, sure, but one he welcomed heartily. He reached out and gripped her hip, pulling her away from the railing to the center of the deck. "Shall we practice a bit?"

  
Natasha nodded, reaching out and tugging James' jacket off of his shoulders and draping it over the back of a chair. Once done, she returned her hands to his chest and undid the top three buttons of his shirt until the cloth lay loosely against his bare chest. "Yes, I think that's a great idea..."

  
~*~

  
Steve slumped back into his seat, looking happily pink around the collar and grinning. He'd sat with Sharon for a good 40 minutes, chatting up one another and sharing drinks. After their fourth shot of whiskey, she'd excused herself and left the bar for the evening, leaving Steve alone to polish off the last of his beer before meandering his way back to the table.

  
"Whoa, dude, we were wondering where you went!" Clint chortled, eyeing Steve's state before gesturing. "We saw you chatting it up with Sharon over there. How's she doing?"

  
Steve grinned, waving his hand. "She's good. She was telling me about a guy she's been seeing from Juneau. The dude seems nice, for sure. She showed me his picture... He's cute!" he chuckled, waving his hand. "It's good that Sharon found someone to date. She really needed it. Aunt Peggy kept telling me how lonely she was getting, but this guy's obviously making her happy. I'm glad for her."

  
Clint smirked, clapping Steve on the shoulder. "Looks like that's two of us who finally found their matches, so far. Maybe I'll have a chance soon!" He laughed, glancing up at the bar. But his face fell and he frowned. "Huh."

  
Steve looked over at Clint, confusion on his face. "Huh? What's huh?" He asked, raising a brow as he lifted his drink to his lips.

  
"Nothing. Just... James and Nat have been gone for awhile now, I dunno where they went." He said, shrugging at Steve before leaning back in his chair. "They probably went to go see who could arm wrestle better. I feel sorry for James' elbow."

  
Steve snorted, looking around the bar as well. But he could spot neither of them, and a matching frown crossed his features. "Maybe they went home? But why would James leave without me?"

  
"He probably thought you were having fun talking to Sharon and didn't want to disturb you." Bruce piped up, sitting down next to Steve and lounging in his seat. "He's so considerate. I like him, I really hope you two stay happily married forever and adopt a lot of Chinese babies. I need to be an uncle, pronto."

Steve snorted into his drink as Bruce spoke. His thoughts were muddled by the drink in his system, but he didn't care in the least bit. The thought of James and he with a squad of squalloring children had him grinning stupidly, shaking his head to clear the thoughts away. The idea of such domesticity with James was far too comfortable a thought in his mind...

  
Just as he opened his mouth to answer Bruce, however, the music cut off from the speakers and the bar filled with confused murmuring. He looked up to the DJ stand, where Wade was ushering people off of the dance floor with a wild flailing of his arms.  
"Alright, folks, clear out! Clear out, we got a show to present to you people!" he shouted into the Mic. Everyone who'd been previously enjoying themselves quickly vacated the open area, watching Wade with confusion. Steve stood from his chair and made his way over to the dance floor, followed by Bruce and Clint. At the back of the group, Sam and Maria stood, beers in hand as they waited patiently for whatever Wade had in store.

  
"What's going on?" Steve asked, rousing Sam's attention from the crowd.

  
"I dunno, Wade said something about a show, but I have no clue what it is." Sam replied, shrugging a shoulder at him as he took a sip of his drink. "Where's James?"

  
"Beats me, Clint said he's been gone for like an hour."

  
Sam nodded, looking back to the now empty floor, illuminated by the neon stage lights. As the crowd rumbled to a silence, their eyes caught sight of Natasha hovering by the DJ table, her jacket long since abandoned and her red dress shining in the glow. Her red hair had been pulled back from her shoulders in a loose side bun, and in her hands she held her cell phone. After a few minutes of tapping away at the screen, she handed the phone to Wade, who plugged it into the auxiliary jack of the soundboard and queued up the speakers.

  
Natasha turned from the table and rounded to the side of the stage, her hands resting on her hips. Music began to fill the bar, a trill of piano keys accompanied by a strumming guitar. The sound had a strong Latin feel to it, and Natasha sauntered out onto the stage, her hips swaying in time to the beat. As she did so, she crooked her finger to the other side of the stage, her face a mask of sultry invitation.

  
All eyes darted to the opposing side of the stage, a gasp of recognition leaving people. Steve's eyes boggled out of his head as he spotted James standing opposite of Natasha. His hair, which had been previously slicked back and neat, was now sitting in wild curls on his head. His jacket had been abandoned, and the white dress shirt tucked into the tops of his grey pants. The sleeves of his skirt were cuffed up, and the top buttons had been undone halfway down his chest. The expression on his face could only be described as predatory as he stared at her.

  
The two approached each other on the stage, their feet gliding across the floor in time to the beat. As they met, the music jarred into a rhythmic hum, violins crying out over the speakers, and the two dancers fell into each other, hands resting on each other's waists. Natasha lunged into James, her leg wrapped around his thigh as he twirled her across the stage. Steve may not have been a dance expert, but he knew a Tango when he saw one. A thrill of excitement filled his chest as he watched James move effortlessly across the stage, his moves fluid and hungry.

  
"Holy shit, this is from Moulin Rouge!" Maria squealed, her hands clapping excitedly as a gruff male voice growled over the speakers, speaking of a woman named Roxanne and her nightly escapades. The beat of the music filled the bar as everyone watched the two dancers twirling together, feet weaving between each other's in a calculating pattern and heels clicking loudly against the wooden floor to the beat of the violins.

  
James had eyes only for Natasha, the two of them pressed seamlessly together. His hand splayed across her back, pressed against the bare skin of her back. He dropped her into an impossible dip until she was bowed completely backwards, the red lights casting across the pale line of her throat and the dress' keyhole of her bosom. Music flowed in every vein as she rolled up his body, their pelvises connected until it was impossible to tell who was who anymore.

  
A second male voice filled the air, a mournful tone singing of heartbreak. Natasha spun away from James, twirling behind him to wrap her arms around his chest until her fingers were pressing into his skin beneath the open shirt. The two of them rolled as one, his head falling back against her shoulder before he grabbed her arm and ripped her away from his back and back into his arms. Lips nearly pressed in a soft caress between them, and Steve was sure they were breathing each other in, lost to the music that enveloped them.

  
The song carried on, more and more heartbreaking in its story, and their movements became more desperate, more starved for each other. Limbs wrapped around each other... James' fingers gripped Natasha's thigh and drew her closer to him... the erratic movements of their dance causing a light sheen of sweat to form on their skin. Steve found his eyes drawn to the location of James' hand, pushing its way up her thigh until he was nearly holding her ass. Natasha's arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close until they tore away from each other in a flurry of movement. Hands snapped to a classic tango hold, and they navigated the dance floor, James in pursuit of the red-head as he drove her around the stage. Erotic was the only word for it. Steve felt a little dirty watching the two of them meld and fold into each other, passion in each other's eyes flowing out to the time of Ewan's voice begging that his love be heard by Roxanne. But as Steve watched he felt a clench in his chest, an unruly and wild anger filling his abdomen as he realized that that was what making love must look like to an outsider.

  
They were stunning together. Natasha leaped into James' arms, her thighs wrapped around his waist as he spun around the floor with her in his arms, the two of them clearly panting with the exertion of their dance. Suddenly, James dropped Natasha to the floor. Her body ended in a perfect angular line from the wood as he held her up by one hand, suspended in a flourishing drop that had the audience gasping in worry that she'd hit the floor. She didn't. Instead, the movement was so fluid, so precisely executed, she barely had time to hover before he was yanking her back into the air, and spinning her around until her skirt billowed out like a bell in the wind.

  
"Holy shit, I didn't know James could dance like that!" Sam hissed, looking up at Steve with wonder on his face. "That's.. that's amazing!" The entire bar seemed to share the sentiment as they watched the dancers, matching looks of amazement and excitement painting features that were illuminated by the soft red glow of the lights.

  
Steve didn't answer. He simply stared at the two of them with a sharp little bubble of envy ready to rupture in his chest. He'd never be able to dance like that. Hell, James and Nat were a much better suited couple than his big, stupid, blond self could be with James. And as he watched, the words of the song began to resonate in his head like a scream.

  
_Why does my heart cry?_ (Why did you make me feel this way, James?)  
_Feelings I can't fight_ (I wasn't supposed to love you.)  
_You're free to leave me, but just don't deceive me_ (Stop doing this to me! I can't love you, when you don't care about me!)  
_And please believe me when I say I love you_ (Jesus Christ.. I love you...)

  
The bar went quiet as the music hit a low, scratching violin strings grating against the heart as Natasha hunted James on the dance floor, her eyes boring into his desperately. It was clear neither of them were paying attention to the others in the room, focused only on the raw frenzy between them while the music filled them with feelings no one else could possibly understand.

  
Suddenly, James grabbed her elbows, pulling her close to his chest and propelled her across the stage as the music grew more frantic again. The back of his shirt was dotted with moisture and his hair was sticking to his brow. Natasha looked completely blissed out, her mouth a soft "oh" as she was lead across the stage. His fingers dug into her skin before, with an upwelling of lust, the music reached a crescendo.

  
_Why does my heart cry?_ (FUCKING STOP IT!)  
_Feelings I can't fight_ (I can't watch you with her anymore...)  
_You're free to leave me, but just don't deceive me_ (How could you do this to me?!)  
_And please believe me when I say I love you_ (Stop touching her! I'm the one you're supposed to want!)

  
As the music reached its shrieking zenith, James lifted Natasha effortlessly, his arm a strong pillar beneath her as he supported her weight and presented her to the sky like an offering. The audience screamed in surprise and laughter, watching the dancers melding together and climaxing. James' head fell back, his eyes closed as he panted. Natasha mirrored his motions, her body bowed over his hand like a curtain of flesh and red silk before she dropped into his arms, the two of them bowed over the wood floor as the music came to an end with a squeal of violin.

  
The two of them met their gazes briefly as twin smiles crossed their features. They were both panting and painted with sweat, but the expressions on their faces could only be described as exuberant. James helped Natasha to her feet, the two of them dropping into a bow to their audience. The entire bar went ballistic, screaming and cheering the two of them as a loud applause filled the void.

  
"Fuck, that was amazing!" Clint hollered, whooping louder than anyone as the two of them left the floor. "Steve, you are a lucky motherfucker, he's an amazing dancer!" There was no answer. "... Steve?" Clint looked up, seeing the blond staring at the dance floor with a blank look on his face. "Steve, you OK man?"

  
Steve didn't answer him. He simply stared ahead while the two dancers exited together, hands tightly clasped as they were thronged by the audience. His fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tense, and he turned away from the scene to stalk back to his chair and down the last of his drink in two swallows. He didn't hesitate to order a second round, wishing to drown his fury in alcohol, rather than even risk glancing at James at that moment.

  
He didn't want to think about what emotions might come pouring out if he stared at his stupid face a minute longer.

  
~*~

  
The bar had resumed it's boisterous din, the patrons laughing and joking amongst themselves as they discussed the completely carnal performance they'd just seen. Both Natasha and James had been stormed by the others, barraged with questions about the dance and what it felt like. He'd grinned to himself as he watched Natasha disarm the others with short answers, shooting him winks from the corner of her eye.

  
It was common misconception, to believe that the tango was entirely sexual. In a way it seemed so, but neither dancer had felt any sort of sexual attraction to each other. They had simply been drawn in by the passion the other had exuded. And the blissed out, breathless state they'd both been left in had had nothing to do with sexual release. They were both running high on the endorphines of doing something they both loved, with a person equally as ardent about it as they were. And while James might admit he'd fallen in love with Natasha's energies, he felt no desire for her physically. He'd found in her another kindred spirit, a friend he could relate to, and she in him. Nothing more.

  
Excusing himself from Nat's side and pressing a kiss to her temple in thanks, he wandered his way through the bar to find Steve. It didn't take him long to locate the blond at the table in the back of the bar again, and when he did, he smiled hugely and dropped down into the chair next to him. "Hey! What are you doing way the hell back here, I thought you were talking with Sharon?" He asked, smiling at him.

  
Steve, grudgingly, paid him no mind. He was sullenly working on his second whiskey while the effects of the previous shots were burning through his veins, the combination making his eyes heavy and his head bleary. He only looked up when he saw James' flurry of motion, and the sneer that crossed his face was unprecedented. "She left. Felt like being back here alone."

  
James raised a brow at him and blinked, leaning back in his seat. "Oookaaay, well you're kind of being a moody bitch, aren't you? What the hell happened to you, did someone piss in your beer?"

  
Steve narrowed his eyes and drained the glass in front of him, slamming it topside down on the tabletop. He pushed his chair back and stood to glare down at James, his jaw ticking with irritation. "Nothing happened to me. Nothing you're even remotely concerned about." Steve growled, gesturing at the dance floor vaguely. "You were just enjoying yourself up there with Nat, but it really has no concern to me, right? I mean, I know nothing about dance, but you two were REALLY having fun. I had no idea dance was another way to get your rocks off in front of a crowd of people. The more you know, right?"

  
He may not have been making sense, but Steve was on a roll now. All the pent up feelings he'd been hiding from James during the weekend were coming forth, warring with the unnecessary resentment he felt towards Natasha. He knew, logically, getting jealous over the two of them was wrong. Unless James felt a mutual attraction towards him (which he was sure he didn't) even ENTERTAINING the thought that he might share his feelings was out of the question. And oh, how ironic that Steve had allowed himself to fall for his boss, after swearing the man's soul on a spit for eternity so many times before. He knew it was foolish, but he just couldn't stop himself now, not when he wanted nothing more than to wipe Natasha's essence off of his body. "Hell, if you really want, you can go abandon me and fuck around with Natasha again for the rest of the night. You two seemed to hit it pretty well off before." He leaned forward and glared into James' face. "If you want, I can snag her number for you. Then, when this whole shitty fucking weekend is over, you two can hook up, and I'll be an obsolete, funny memory of a weekend wasted away. I think that sounds like a plan, don't you? James always gets his way, and Steve doesn't, right?"

  
The words stung like hot arrows through his chest. James stared at the slightly intoxicated man before him, his eyes wide in shock before hurt bloomed through him. His fingers tightened around the tabletop before he slammed his palm down onto the wood, startling Steve from his ramblings. "Fuck you." He hissed, getting to his feet and grabbing his coat from the back of the chair. "Just... Fuck. You." He didn't give Steve a chance to respond before he was storming his way for the door, shoving his way through the oblivious crowd and leaving the blond spluttering angrily behind him.

  
James slammed his way out into the cold night, shoving his arms into his coat with a blind fury. He heard the sounds of the bar behind him ebbing away as the door shut behind him, his breath puffing out in angry tufts of warm air. He needed to get away from Steve, right the fuck now. Not caring how that was done he just walked, keeping his head low as he made his way down the sidewalk. He found himself wandering away from the concrete, heavy footfalls now echoing on the wood of the docks. He did't care where he wandered to, nor whether or not he was alone. He wished he'd thought to buy an extra pack of cigarettes from Wade's shop the day before, or at least saved his last smoke. His teeth itched in the waves of his anger for the comforting rush of tobacco.

  
With nothing but the frosty air to accompany him, James stopped at one pier, standing in the shadow of a dock house. He was so preoccupied with watching the water reflecting the twilight, he didn't notice Steve approaching him until he was practically on top of James. But when he did, he tensed his jaw at Steve and crossed his arms. "The fuck are you doing, following me?" He demanded, narrowing his eyes at him. "You know what? You're clearly out of your fucking MIND if you are jealous over a DANCE, STEVE! You said you wanted to see me dance, well THERE YOU GO, you got to see it. It was a Tango, it's SUPPOSED to be like that. But, of course, you go and throw the jealous boyfriend drivel at me like you're allowed to. What the hell is wrong with you! IT'S. A. DANCE." James shouted, balling his fists up at his sides.

  
Steve glared down at him, wildly angry and emotions bolstered by the drinks he'd had. Pointing back at the bar, he raised his voice. "Ask about a dozen people that just saw that, and they'll agree with me, you two were practically fucking on the dance floor. I don't care about what the style is like, Buck! You're not supposed to be grinding on another girl while you're here with me, even if she is just a friend!"

  
James felt his face flushing dark red as he glared up at Steve and squared his shoulders. "And exactly WHY am I not allowed to do that with another girl, when you and I aren't even DATING. Or did you forget that this whole engagement thing is fucking crap!"

  
Steve lurched back from James, his eye widened in shock at the slap his words gave him. He felt his chest tightening with fury and his blue eyes flashed dangerously. With lightening fast reflexes, he shoved James up against the dark wall of a dock shed, pinning him in with the cage of his arms to stare down at him. "Say that again."

  
"It's. Crap. It's crap because you WANTED it to be crap! You said so before we even flew all the way up here!" James snarled, glaring at him before gesturing wildly over Steve's shoulder. "Don't tell me you're gonna get all jealous of me dancing with Natasha, when I saw you and Sharon giggling and laughing over God knows what. Keep this in mind: Once this weekend is over, we "break up" again and you get to return to your happy little fucking life, and you and Sharon can have as many super model babies as you two want!"

  
Now, James was breathing heavily, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. "Once this weekend is over, the show is done and I return to New York, ALONE. You still have family and friends and a girl that's pining over you like a puppy dog. She wants you back, Steve, so remember that. Once this whole fucking lie is through, YOU STILL HAVE THE POTENTIAL FOR A HAPPY LIFE WITH SOMEONE TO LOVE. I don't! I had one weekend of feeling somewhat normal, one dance with someone who shared that passion with me before I have to go back and pretend I don't enjoy it. I get to go back to my cold, lonely ass apartment surrounded by manuscripts and I do my thing, day in and day out with nothing to look forward to but another summer working 7 days a week because I have no friends and Christmas alone with a bottle of Jack, wishing I could see my parents one more time! You have everything! I literally have my JOB left Steve. So NO. YOU DON'T GET TO BE JEALOUS OF ME."

  
James' voice cracked violently on his words, and huge wet drops ran down his face. He was so unbelievably upset now, he couldn't even see straight. James was pretty sure he was hyperventilating at this point, but once the dam had been opened, the words flowed out like sickness from a lanced wound. And that's what James felt like: an open, raw wound pouring out all of the emotion he'd repressed for over 10 years, and dumping it onto Steve's head. Steve, the one person that had given him a fair shake and cared enough about his wellbeing that he was willing to go to jail for him. He felt vile, disgusting... he felt like Yasha all over again, caught up in another screaming match with Brock.

  
Steve stared at him, dropping his arms from the wall that had kept James pinned in place before him. He took a step back as he listened to James rant, and he was right. God, he was right... right about everything but one. But his mind was too fuzzy, and he needed water to sober up, but James was starting to move further down the dock. A wild panic hit him in the chest as he watched James leave his side and he realized, through the quickly fading haze of his buzz, he didn't want James to go. He didn't want to lose him. And lose him he was going to do, if he didn't stop him.

  
Steve stumbled forward, reaching out to grab James' elbow and stop him. He gasped when James wrenched out of his hold like a wild animal, shoving him backwards. But Steve wouldn't give up now. Instead, he stepped forward again and grabbed James around the waist, pinning his arms to his sides.

  
James shouted, fighting against the cage of his arms as he kicked and flailed. A lone memory caught him in the throes of his furious tears, and he panicked. But the arms would not let go of him. A new sense of dread filled James' stomach and he slammed his heel down into the man's instep, wrenching away from him. "STOP IT, BROCK!" James shouted, his voice echoing over the cold water as he finally wrenched free from his grip.

  
Both men froze. Steve looked up from his smarting foot and stared at James in surprise, now fully sobered by the experience. Brock.. who the hell was Brock? He watched James for a moment, keeping his hands up, but otherwise not moving. James looked spooked. Terrified, even. What about this Brock person had put that kind of emotion on James' face?

  
James felt his cheeks draining of color as he stared at Steve. He knew what he'd said. He knew what he'd been thinking. But Steve wasn't Brock. Why... why would he even think that Steve was Brock? "... I'm sorry." he croaked, moving backwards. He felt a pressure at his ankle as he stepped away, but his mind was on autopilot. He stared at Steve, shaking his head as he took another step to escape him. "I'm so sorry..."

  
Reality hit Steve hard as his mind's eye played out the scenario. James was way too close to the water's edge, and in his panic he was backing right up for it. "James.. stop moving." Steve suddenly warned, his eyes darting down to James' feet. In his flailing, he'd knocked over a coil of rope tied to an old row boat anchor and the rope had wrapped around his ankle. And he was backing right up towards the edge of the dock. "James.. Stop!"

  
James shook his head, taking another step to evade Steve's arms. But as he did, gravity threw his balance and the heel of his boot caught the edge of the dock, knocking the anchor into the water. That pressure around his ankle tightened suddenly and the rope that had woven it's way around his foot yanked him backwards. His arms pinwheeled desperately, trying to catch his balance, but it was no use. The lead weight dragged him into the lake with a splash, the brunet's shout quickly muffled by water as he struggling against his snare. As he sank, he watched the surface of the waves quickly distance itself from his outstretched arms, air bubbles escaping him in his panic as the icy water enveloped him fully.

  
"BUCKY!!!"

* * *

 

 

Author note: *Runs and hides from the rotten vegetables*

 

For reference, here's the song: 

[Moulin Rouge!- El Tango De Roxanne](https://youtu.be/Z-gdmXVSgMI)

 

James' tango outfit:

 

And Natasha's:

 

*rushes off to write chapter 8 before you all kill me!*

 

 Also if anyone knows the actual name of "dock house" could you let me know? I didn't know what it was called, but this is what I was picturing it to be. Thanks!!:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I realize the "12% line" was spoken towards Pepper and not by Natasha, I decided to include it as a nod to the Marvel Cinematic verse. Also, I do apologize if this chapter is not as well written as the others, I was so focused on the dance scene, I sort of diverted all of my energies into getting that to sound just right. Hopefully you guys still enjoy!


	8. Vindication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Steve and Wade rescue James from the lake, James receives care for his hypothermia, which includes a lot of cuddling and coming to term with each other's feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY KISS THEY KISS THEY FINALLY KISS YAAAAYYYY!!!!!!
> 
> I hope I kept you guys in enough anticipation for this chapter, but I DID promise a few of you that there would be some redemption in this chapter, and here it is. And what fluffy lovely redemption it is!
> 
> The next chapter will be the remainder of what happens in this night, so stay tuned. Hint: Chapter 9 will have a lot of love and smut in it but be warned. The smooth sailing ends after chapter 9 and it's rocky seas from there. And I mean ROCKY seas. Like.. I hate myself for how much i know writing this is gonna suck both for me and you readers. You're gonna hate Tony. You're gonna hate me as the writer. But don't hate me too much! 
> 
> Trigger warning for drowning!
> 
> Also, trigger warning for hints of the domestic abuse James went through in his early years are right at the beginning of this chapter. Chapter 9 is going to delve more deeply into that backstory, but I decided to post the trigger warning here as well because it hints to it.

The ironic part was he hadn't actually sunk that far from the surface. By the time the anchor hit the bottom of the lake, James floated maybe 12 feet from the surface. So close, he could make out the shapes of movement above the water. So close that if he could kick his foot free from the rope, he'd only take a moment to rise to the surface. But the rope was knotted, stubborn, and his flailing as he submerged had only wound the fibers tighter around his ankle. But he could see shadows moving above him, the movement of the lake casting iridescent ripples of light across his vision. It would have been strikingly beautiful in other circumstances... like his very own Aurora Borealis.

  
The ice cold water burned his skin and constricted his chest, making whatever little oxygen he'd managed to hold harder to withstand. His chest screamed for air, the pressure growing impossibly more so as he struggled to hold on for a few more moments. He stopped flailing. There was no point. As he had just scant seconds left, James stared at the surface of the water and a sort of calm fell over him. He couldn't feel his limbs anymore, and his head felt light. Specks of light flickered past his vision, and his chest began to scream in agony from holding his breath.

  
_"See what I mean, Yash? Useless. Just useless without me."_

  
'Stop it..' He thought to himself, feeling his eyes growing heavy as the frigid cold sank into his bones, making him feel like he was sinking to the bottom. A memory coursed through his mind as phantom fingers wrapped around his throat, pushing his head underwater again. But that couldn't be right. He was already submerged. The toe of his boot brushed the rocky floor of the lake as he was dragged further and further from the edge of consciousness.

  
_"You'd be fucked without me. Stick with me, kid. I'm never gonna let you go. This pain right here... it ain't nothing compared to what you've got in store for you if you leave. You're gonna stick with me for life if you know what's good for you..."_

  
'I said, STOP!' The fingers tightened around his windpipe, clawing at his skin until he saw specks of yellow at the corners of his already puffy vision of a sneer, an older man with a head of dark hair and angry gray eyes staring down at him. Star bursts erupted in his view that only grew in intensity with each strangled gasp.

  
His timer ran out. A sharp pain in his chest caused him to cough, the last of his air escaping him as water flooded his lungs. Static filled the corners of his vision and blocked out his peripherals, causing a tunnel vision to the one spot he'd entered the lake from. The shadow above him was moving more erratically, but he couldn't tell if that was someone above him, or if that was his own shadow casting up and giving him a last look at his pathetic self.

'I don't need you.. I can get by on my own...'

  
_"You're gonna die just like your folks, Yasha. I'm the only good thing you got left, so drop the shit and stick with me."_

  
'I'd rather die than be with you...'

  
_"Then you're a fucking idiot, like I always thought you were. I hope you don't mind being the only person at your funeral."_ His head submerged again and he struggled, fighting to break free.

  
Then I'll be alone... I'm used to being alone...

  
~*~

  
"BUCKY!!"

  
Steve stared in horror as James plunged into the lake. He shouted for help as he staggered to the center of the dock, his heart racing and his mind sluggish. James had been right in front of him... and then just gone. Steve froze, his mind going blank, the alcohol still fogging up his thoughts until the whiskey shut him down. Moments ticked by, melding into minutes as he tried to kick-start his brain from the shock he felt, into action. What did he do? What was he DOING? James was gonna die and he was standing here?! No. Not on his watch. Forcing himself to stumble to the edge of the wood, he stared down at the water, but the light casting across the lake surface cut off any sight of James. He panicked for a moment longer, before he got his feet fully underneath him and began to shrug out of his coat. There was no way James could handle being submerged in that icy water. He'd already been under for too long.

  
But just as he'd prepared to dive in and attempt to rescue him, a voice called to him.

  
"Steve-o! What are you doin', goin' for a late night swim?"

  
Steve looked up to see Wade approaching him with that usual swagger, obviously having just left the bar, and he began to frantically wave his arms. "GO GET HELP, JAMES FELL INTO THE WATER!" he shouted, turning back to dive in. However, before he could do so, a hand shot out and Wade stopped him.

  
"Hell naw, bud. Stay here, you're not gonna be able to swim like that, I saw you sucking down those drinks. Besides, he's gonna need you to warm him up! I'm used to this kind of water. Don't move!" Wade spoke, his face painted in a rare mask of seriousness. Before Steve could argue with him, the Crazy Canadian dove into the water, coat and shoes and all.

  
Steve stared at the surface that two men had disappeared into, bouncing on the balls of his feet in anxiety. It couldn't have been more than five minutes from the time James fell in to now, but to Steve it felt like a lifetime. Even if he didn't drown, he'd been wearing nothing but dress clothes and a thin jacket. He'd surely freeze to death.

  
But before he could properly panic and start screaming for help again, Wade emerged with a gasp, dragging a waterlogged James behind him. The brunet wasn't moving. "I'm sorry Steve! His leg was caught in a rope, I had to untangle him!" Wade apologized, looking upset as he swam the unconscious man over to the dock.

  
"Bucky!" Steve cried, dropping down to his knee to grab James and tug him up onto the dock. He wrapped his arms around James' chest, hoisting him up from the lake. God, he felt heavy. The girth of the soaked clothing only dragged him down further, and with dead weight, James nearly pulled Steve into the water with him. But after a few moments of tugging and Wade lifting his legs as best as he could from the water's surface, the two managed to drag James onto the dock. Wade quickly followed after them, shaking himself of the water like a wet dog. "Go get him a blanket!" Steve ordered, pulling Bucky to the center of the dock and stretching him out to loosen any clothing constricting his breathing.

  
"Aye aye, Captain!" Wade saluted, jogging for the dock-house shed.

  
Steve stared down at the soaked editor lying stretched out before him. He wasn't moving, his eyes closed, skin pale, and lips an ashy gray. "No, no no! Don't you die on me. I need you!" He gasped. Steve pushed the wet strands of hair from James' face, trying to feel for life. His skin was so cold... He couldn't be dead. He was only under for a few minutes!

  
Shaking his head violently, Steve leaned forward, grabbing James' head and tilting it back. He pried the editor's mouth open and sealed his own lips around his mouth, pinching off his nose as he gave him the Kiss of Life. Breathing into him, Steve willed James to wake up, his eyes darting over his face as he looked for any signs of life. To Steve's dismay, James remained as still as ever, his lashes a fan of dark against the contrasting paleness of his cheeks. "Don't die, you stupid jerk!" He gasped, breathing for James a second time.

  
This one did the trick, however, as James suddenly convulsed, spewing up cold Alaskan water with a choking cough. Eyes flying wide in fear he spluttered and choked as he tried to gain his breath back. "Fuck! Oh f-f-fuck!" He groaned, voice raw from the cold and his jaw chattering loudly as he lay beneath Steve's form. Frozen hands clutched Steve's shoulders as if afraid he'd fall back into the lake, entire body twitching weakly against the wood of the dock.

  
Steve had never been more relieved for anything in his life and he held James close, not caring if his saturated clothing soak into his own. He clung to James tightly, clutching him like he was afraid this was a horrid dream and he'd wake up to find him dead. "Jesus.. Jesus fuck, you scared me." Steve gasped, his own voice wavering with emotion as he tried to calm himself down. Even in his state, he knew James didn't need him freaking out drunkenly over him. He had to be strong. "Don't.. don't do that again!"

  
James' teeth clattered together loudly, his brain still fuzzy from the lack of oxygen and the bone deep chill that had overtaken him. He felt tired.. so tired. He just wanted to sleep. Right here was good...

  
"Here! I got a blanket!" Wade called, plodding over in his own saturated clothing to hand Steve a thick quilt. Steve took the blanket from him in thanks, swaddling his boss up in the warm cloth. "Don't move him, I'll go radio in for SCH to send out an ambulance!"

  
James peeked his eyes open to look up at Steve, and noticed Wade standing over him. Wade was soaking wet, why the hell... he blinked to himself, feeling his own clothing sticking to him heavily, the freezing water soaking into his very bones and locking his joints up. Oh.. he'd fallen in, that's right...

  
"Sitka Hospital might not be enough, it's too small. Radio in Bartlett Regional, they might be able to medevac him quicker." Steve replied, his hands moving over James' arms to try and warm up his limbs.

  
It took James exactly 10 seconds to realize what they were talking about. He was cold, so fucking cold he'd never been this cold in his life... he was wet.. he'd fallen into a lake, his lungs still burned from the water that had assaulted them. Is this what hypothermia felt like? Suddenly, his confusion melted away into worry and he shook his head, the action loose and floppy as he tried to grip Steve's hand. His fingers were like wet noodles around his wrist, slipping from his arm and falling to his chest.  
"N-No! N-n-no Steve! I j-just want t-to go home." James shuddered, tucked firmly into the blanket, and burrowing into Steve's chest. "I k-know how to t-treat hypoth-thermia! Just get me to th'house. I'll be f-f-fine."

  
Steve regarded him uncertainly for a moment before he spoke. "Bucky you almost drowned and you're freezing to death. We need to get you to a hospital before you get worse." He sort of congratulated himself for sounding as sober as he did right now...

  
James shook his head again, the action a bit more precise this time. "I d-do-on't want-t to go. I can't! Your m-m-mom is at the house, she's a nurse. Sh-she'll know what t-to do. Pleas-se I just want-t t-to go home..."

  
The plea was so timid, Steve found he couldn't fight it. James was right. His mom could treat him. Heaving a sigh, he grabbed his Jeep keys from his pocket and he threw them at Wade. "Take these keys, go get the Jeep, it's in front of your store. And hurry." He ordered, watching Wade salute him again and disappear down the docks.

  
"H-How is he.. n-not freezing?" James stammered, burying his face in the side of Steve's neck. His skin was icy to the touch, and it made Steve's heart race with nerves. However, he didn't waste time getting upset. James was awake. He could warm up. He was breathing... he wasn't leaving him.

  
"He's the Crazy Canadian, remember? They bear wrestle and go skinny dipping with moose for fun." he replied in an attempt to diffuse the situation. He wrapped his arms around James' torso and rubbed his arms with his palms. The friction was quickly absorbed by James' frigid skin, and Steve smiled, glad to see that James was starting to thaw out.

  
"R-remind me to ask him about his l-last bear wrestling c-competition. I'm s-sure it's no different than T-times Square on Black Friday..."

  
~*~

  
James and Steve stumbled into the quiet house together, leaning against each other's sides for warmth. Steve kept his arms firmly wrapped around James' body, frog marching him from the doorway. He dropped James' saturated leather coat on the floor, knowing it was probably ruined at this point, but still willing to attempt recovering the stiffened leather.

  
He called for his mother, holding the quilt-bedecked James to his side. The editor leaned heavily against his shoulder, his limbs weak and fatigued as his head lolled tiredly against his neck. His hair, which had previously frozen in the cold wind as Steve drove them hurriedly to the house, started to melt, leaving wet trails that ran down Steve's neck. "MOM! DAD! JAMES NEEDS HELP!" Steve shouted, steering him into the living room. The last of the evening fire was burning in the pit and he frowned, wishing he had another pair of arms to stoke and rekindle the flames. He didn't want to let go of James.

  
After a moment, Sarah came running down the stairs in her robe, her eyes wide in worry. When she saw James huddled into Steve's side and looking like a drowned rat, she gasped and rushed over to him. "What happened?!" She asked, touching his cheeks with her palms and shaking her head. Nurse mode activated as she bustled about, grabbing James' shoulders and steering him to the sofa. "Sit. Get out of those wet clothes. Steve, go get him dry clothing from his suitcase and a sweatshirt." she ordered, all business now. "JOE! I NEED YOU!"

  
"He fell into the lake by the Roadhouse. A rope got caught around his ankle and an anchor dragged him into the water. Wade had to fish him out." Steve replied, backing away to let his mother do her work.

  
"Nearly drowned and frozen. Why on EARTH did you come back here!" She asked, rushing into the kitchen to grab a rice pack from the cabinet and threw it into the microwave. "Scoot, scoot! Go get him those clothes, he needs to warm up!"

  
The Rogers family fell into a bustle. Joe stoked and lit the fire, having already cranked the heat in the house up a few degrees. He stayed in the living room, keeping an eye on the groggy James before calling to his wife. "Sarah, he's drifting off again!"

  
Sarah bustled back into the room holding the rice pack wrapped in a towel and a spare towel draped over her arm. She sat down next to James and began to towel his dark hair off gently, careful not to jostle his head around too much. "James, talk to me. We need to keep you alert. Why did you not go to the hospital?"

  
James slurred, looking up at her tiredly. "I didn't.. want to. I just wanted to come home.." he repeated for the third time that night. He missed the pained look Sarah shot her husband at the implication.

  
"I got him some clothes and my old sweater." Steve called, rushing into the room. He'd grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, boxer briefs, a pair of dry socks and the oversize red sweater from his closet. Graciously, both Sarah and Joe turned away to allow James some privacy, though Steve had had to help him change into his dry clothing. It was a struggle, the editor's limbs still limp and uncoordinated, but after a few moments, he was decked in fluffy clothing, his wet suit abandoned at the side of the couch. He then swaddled James back up in a fresh quilt and sat down next to him, enveloping him in his arms in front of the fire.

  
Sarah moved back to James' other side, pressing the hot rice compact against his torso and wrapping the quilt around it. "Keep by his side, I'm going to put on tea. Keep him awake." she murmured, pressing a kiss to her son's forehead. With that, she and Joe both disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Steve and James alone in the living room in front of the fireplace.

  
Steve held James close to his side, pressing his cheek to the damp locks of hair on his crown. He inhaled slowly, trying to will his heart to calm down, and the worried nausea in his stomach to pass. God, what the fuck had he been thinking? His stupid self... he could have gotten James killed! The blond chanced a look down at James, and noted his eyes were closed again. "Hey.. James wake up." he murmured, jostling his shoulder again. "Don't sleep yet. Mom needs to keep an eye on you for a few more minutes."

  
James groaned, peeking one bleary eye up at Steve and regarded him for a moment. "Just tired..."

"I know, Bucky. I know. It'll pass. Just need to get something warm in your stomach.."

  
Minutes crept by. Sarah had returned to the living room alone, having sent Joe up to start a fire in her son's bedroom before returning to their own for the night. She held a cup of chamomile tea in her hands, a comfortable hot, and handed it to James. She urged him to drink and kept her keen eye on him as he sipped the tea, his still pale fingers cupping around the porcelain. His lips had returned to their natural pink state, but his skin was still chilled to the touch. With a bit more tender care, however, he'd pull through.

After keeping an eye on them for a few more minutes and chatting about the Roadhouse, she found herself laughing as Steve recounted the dance James had performed with Natasha. Worryingly, James didn't react, as if he didn't remember it, but his quickly brightening pallor was a comforting sign.

  
It took another 20 minutes before Sarah felt comfortable that James would be alright. She checked his temperature again and with a satisfied nod, leaned back. "He'll be alright. He just needs rest. Get him into bed, but when you do, you need to both lose some layers of clothing. He needs as much skin contact as possible, and you run hot Steve."

  
The blond looked up at her in confusion before he blushed dark red. "Mom..!"

  
"Hush, Stevie!" Sarah chuckled, waving her hand at him. "I know you two do a lot more than just cuddle with no clothes on. You're both grown men. Just do as I say and he should be fine by morning." She got to her feet and wrapped her robe around her waist a little tighter. She leaned down and pressed another kiss to Steve's forehead, and then one to James', lingering for a moment to feel out his body temperature. Slowly on the rise, but surely.

  
With that, Steve watched his mother excuse herself for the night and leave the two of them alone. He looked down at James and nudged his shoulder, urging him to sit up. "C'mon. Let's get you into bed." he murmured, setting the empty tea cup down on the table and helping him to his feet. It was a long walk, but they finally made it up the stairs together and into the bedroom where the fire roared happily, warming the room to a comfortable temperature.

  
"Alright... mom's orders. Gotta get you out of those clothes and into bed." he murmured, reaching out to tug the quilt away from him.

  
"I can undress myself, Steve." James replied, looking up at him with a hint of stubbornness in his eyes. While he still felt a little unsteady on his feet, he felt a lot more comfortable that he could move without hitting the floor and carefully peeled himself out of his clothes until he was down to his underwear. He crawled into the bed with relief, sinking into the mattress before cocooning himself in the blankets. Only the top of his head remained sticking out of his little burrito. James peeked out at Steve, noting the way he stood awkwardly next to the bed. "This is the part where you do as your mother said and get in."

  
Steve watched him for a moment before sighing and shrugging out of his jacket, quickly followed by his shirt and jeans until he was down to his boxer briefs, and he threw the clothing over a chair. Feeling somewhat embarrassed now, he hovered by the bed before tentatively slipping into the blankets with his boss. He sidled up to his side and wrapped his arms around James' shoulders until the long line of their bare bodies touched, pressed together until they were almost seamless in the bed. "Jesus Christ, your skin is still ice cold." He sighed, tugging him closer.

  
James sighed in relief, soaking up the warmth he felt emanating from Steve's skin like a furnace. He burrowed into his arms with a groan, pressing his face to the valley between Steve's pectorals. Minutes ticked by and gradually his shivers stopped, his body stilling in the bed. He wrapped his own arms around Steve's back and held tightly to him, the two men wrapped up in each other's arms in the middle of the overly quilted bed.

  
The two of them fell silent as time passed. The fire in the room burned quietly in the corner, illuminating the room in a soft orange glow. James couldn't shake the thought that it struck him as romantic, all things considered.

  
"I'm sorry I yelled at you." James murmured against his chest, keeping his face hidden from sight. "I'm sorry I threw all of that at you. It wasn't fair of me." he murmured, looking up at Steve for a moment. The close proximity of their bodies, their lips only scant inches apart, had him feeling a little hot at the collar, and he looked away, laying his still damp hair on the pillow next to Steve.

  
Steve didn't speak. He watched James apologizing to him, and for a wild moment, he felt a bubble of satisfaction in his chest. Damn right, he didn't have a right to yell at him like that. That bubble popped, however, as he remembered exactly why James had gone off on him and what his own actions almost cost him. He bit his lip and looked up at the ceiling, fighting back the urge to kiss him stupid. "It's.. it's not really... your fault." He managed to mutter, inhaling slowly. "I sort of went crazy on you. Getting stupid jealous and all that. I have.. NO idea, why I did that." Lie. He knew exactly why he'd gone crazy on James like that. Like hell was he going to tell him that, however.

  
The editor stared at Steve, and his eyes narrowed slightly. "You're lying to me." he said simply, pulling back slightly to stare at him. "You're not telling me something. After everything that just happened, what the hell could POSSIBLY be so important about this night that you're not telling me?" For a brief moment, the thought of Sharon came to his mind and he swallowed down a wave of sickness. Steve may be trying to tell him that he and Sharon were hooking back up again. It would make sense that he was furious at being forced into a fake marriage that would impede his rekindling relationship with her.

  
Steve didn't look at him. He just stared at the ceiling for a long moment before he spoke again. "Why did you call me Brock? Who is he?" He asked, changing the subject before he was able to meet James' gaze again.

  
"No. You don't get to change the subject." James growled, narrowing his eyes at him before he sat up fully. The moment the blanket fell away from his torso he began to shiver again, his body not having caught up with its temperature regulation yet.

  
"James, get back in the blanket." Steve sighed, reaching up and wrapping his arms around James' waist and tugging him back into the warmth of their nest. This time, he spooned the editor, keeping him trapped against his chest with his arms.

  
James huffed, closing his eyes as he secretly soaked up the warmth coming off of Steve's body with delight. He wrapped his hand around Steve's wrist and held on, scooting his back right up flush against Steve's torso until their legs twined together. They stayed like that for a moment before James spoke back up again. "I'm not gonna let it drop, Steven. Why did you get so upset?" he asked, expertly avoiding his question of Brock. No. No way in hell could he make this night any worse by bringing that asshole into the conversation...

  
Steve pressed his mouth against James' crown, the wet hair chilling his lips. "The reason..." He stopped, inhaling to steady his heartbeat. "The reason I got so upset... is because you were right. I was jealous when I watched you two dance. The sight of you and Natasha dancing like that.. you have to admit it looked really sensual. Really.. And I got jealous. Because... I can't dance like that." he quickly amended, feeling his cheeks burning with humiliation. How the hell was he supposed to tell James that he cared about him. That he loved him? What a hell of a fucking weekend, to fall in love with the guy he despised for 2 years straight.

  
"That sure as hell wasn't jealousy over not being able to dance, Steve." James murmured, looking over his shoulder at him. "What were you really thinking?"

  
"You're not gonna make this easy on me, are you?" Steve muttered, rolling his eyes.

  
"When have I ever made things easy on you, Steve?"

  
Good point. Steve grumbled to himself and closed his eyes. This was it. He inhaled deeply, steeling his nerves before he blurted his answer. "I was jealous because I wanted it to be me dancing with you like that. Not Natasha." He waited for the shoe to drop, his lip caught between his teeth as he worried the flesh nervously. When James didn't answer, he prompted him further. "You can start screaming at me and calling me disgusting now." he sighed, closing his eyes.

  
James didn't move. He stared at the far wall, his heart racing in his chest. Was Steve.. SERIOUSLY admitting that he was jealous because he LIKED him? His breathing hitched in his chest, fingers tightening around Steve's wrist. No, no no. He couldn't do this. Steve didn't want to be with him, someone as fucked up emotionally as he was. As much as it excited him to know that Steve felt the same way now.. he couldn't do that to this man.

  
"You don't wanna be with me." he blurted out, arms tensing when he felt Steve shift behind him. The long line of their bodies melded together in the bed, and he shifted, rubbing his foot along Steve's ankle. Despite turning him down, his body screamed for more contact, more of whatever THIS was forming between them. "You really don't wanna say things like that. Not when you have someone like Sharon who is, without a doubt, a much better partner to be with."

  
"Sharon?" Steve asked, looking down at him curiously. "What about Sharon?"

  
"You know..." James waved his free hand noncommittally. "You and Sharon hit it off so well.. you're practically made for each other. And she's beautiful, and charming and.. you used to date her. Why the hell would you give up someone like that to even entertain the thought of being with me? I'm a heartless bastard."

  
"Stop it. You're not heartless." Steve snapped, looking down at him as he loomed over his shoulder. "And Sharon and I are not getting back together. Where did you even get that idea from?"

  
James shrugged. "Just.. you two get on so well and she always smiles like you hung the damn moon for her." he felt his breath stilling for a moment as he thought back to the previous Christmas... ("What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey. That's a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon, Mary.") James gasped sharply, fighting back a wave of sadness. God he felt like an idiot...

  
Steve stared at his back for a moment, his eyes wide. "James... You know the reason why we broke up was because I'm gay right?"

  
That startled James. He looked back at Steve and blinked. "But.. wait what?"

  
Steve laughed, looking down at James and relishing his surprised reaction. "Yeah? I came out when I finished my freshman year of college. Sharon was actually the one that came to me and asked if I was straight. I guess the uhm.. very much lack of sex was starting to look suspicious to her. I knew probably about a year before I came out. So that was an awkward year of dating for both of us."

  
James stared at him over his shoulder, bewilderment on his features. "So you.. DON'T want to get back with Sharon?" He asked, feeling slightly lighter in the chest.

  
Steve nodded, looking down at him with a smile plastered on his features. "Nope. The reason she and I get along so well is because she's the person that helped me come out. When she asked me if I was straight, I was so scared I threw up. I didn't know how to tell someone I'd been dating for 5 years that the reason I didn't sleep with her anymore was because I was catching myself staring at the guys in the hallway, or binge watching Cam Guys."

  
James burst into laughter, his hand tightening around Steve's wrist again. "Cam Guys, seriously? I never pegged you for that type."

  
"Shut up." Steve snorted, burying his face in James' shoulder. "Anyway, when I finally came out and said it to her, that damn woman laughed and told me she'd already figured it out and just needed me to come out and admit it. We talked for a long time after that, coming to terms with everything. Turns out she cared about me, but her feelings had shifted long before I came out and told her the truth. Sharon, being as stubborn as she is, dragged me back home to my parents and sat me down to tell them."

  
"How did that turn out?" James asked, looking over his shoulder at him.

  
"Surprisingly well. I think they suspected I was at least bisexual. They were both very supportive of that fact... it was .. I was lucky I didn't have a horror story of a coming out venture like some people did." Steve smiled a little, pressing his lips to James' shoulder blade and snickering. "Mom, Sharon and I spent the whole next day in the house, watching reality TV and talking about which Bachelor was the cutest."

  
James smiled, listening to Steve talk before closing his eyes. "You're really a lucky man, Steve... Hell, most people would kill to have the life you've had." He murmured, his fingers trailing down Steve's wrist to twine with his. The two of them fell silent again, listening to the crackling of the fire in the corner of the room. James felt quite warm now, comfortable, and his body was less sluggish. But he didn't really want to move from this spot at all. No, he felt quite comfortable right here... with his back pressed against Steve's broad chest, their fingers folded together, their legs wrapped around each other.

  
If he didn't know any better, he'd say this was just what he'd been missing out on for the past decade.

  
"What do your tattoos mean?" Steve asked, breaking their silence. He lifted his head from the pillow and looked down at James. Wondering if he'd breached some sort of comfort zone with his boss, Steve frowned and lifted his free hand to card through the still damp locks on the back of James' head. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to... I'm just curious..."

  
James bit his lip, closing his eyes for a moment to try and will down the swelling of emotion in his throat. After a moment, he opened his eyes again and looked up at Steve, his gaze soft and pleading. "I don't want to talk about the one on my shoulder..." he began, hesitating.

  
"That's fine.. I don't mind."

  
"But.. the one on my collar... I think you have a right to know about that one."

  
Steve waited patiently, his eyes soft and comforting. He didn't pry or push for James to speak when he wasn't ready. Instead, he stilled, his eyes bright and inviting for the answer whenever it would come.

  
James bit his lip, looking up at the ceiling. "It's.. Russian.. for a phrase my parents always told me when I was a little kid. When they died... I didn't know what I was doing with myself. I thought my whole world fell apart. It actually did. But the only thing that kept me even slightly sane was that phrase. I told it to myself every night before I went to sleep, and somehow it just... it kept me alive."

  
"What was the phrase?" Steve asked, resting his chin on James' shoulder. He didn't know why, but a strong urge overcame him and he found himself pressing a soft kiss to the bare skin of James' right shoulder, the barest touch... a butterfly's feet on his skin, it was so light. But that light touch sent a bolt of electricity through James' body and he shivered, feeling his toes curl with delight and a soft huff of air leaving him.

  
"It... It means.." he murmured, swallowing thickly to ward off the tears. "They told me every day when I was a kid that they'd always be there for me, no matter what. Because I really had no one else. And I believed them. I still do, to a degree..." he murmured. Looking up and meeting Steve's gaze, he smiled a little. "'With You 'Til the End of the Line'. That's what it says. When I feel at my lowest, Ill go to the bathroom, at work, at the store, at home, whenever I need to see it, and I just read it. And I feel a little better."

  
Steve listened, his eyes softening a little before he smiled at him and pressed another, more firm, kiss to his shoulder at the juncture of shoulder and neck. The shudder he felt course through James' body made him chuckle. "Are you ticklish?"

  
"No." James shot back, his eyes widening a little.

  
"Yeah, I think you are." Steve murmured, his grin turning predatory before he began to rake his fingers up and down James' sides. The squeal of a laugh it got out of James had him bursting, wrapping his arms and legs around James' body, holding him still as he assaulted him with tickles.

  
James wheezed and cried out for mercy, laughing loudly as a huge smile cracked his face in half and his eyes screwed up with mirth. He squirmed in Steve's arms, twisting and turning to escape his clutches before he completely flipped himself over and buried himself in his chest, trying to avoid the attack. After a few moments, Steve granted him mercy and ceased fire, wrapping his arms around his back and holding him close.

  
"I don't think I've ever seen you really smile much before this whole weekend." The blond commented, smiling down at him as he gently ran his fingertips up and down James' back.

  
"I've never really had much reason to." James panted, looking up at him a little winded.

  
"You should do it more often. It's a good look on you."

  
James blushed, burying his face again before exhaling loudly. The breath moved the fine hairs on Steve's chest and he found he really liked the feel of the blond's muscles around him, keeping him warm and safe. "Maybe I will."

  
"You know.." Steve murmured, looking down at him. "Whenever you're ready to tell me about the ring.. about your other tattoo.. about Brock.. You know you can come to me whenever. And if that Star tattoo has some sort of bad connection to it.. Maybe I can draw you a new one to go over it. I've been told I'm pretty good at drawing."

  
"You can draw?" James asked, looking up at him in surprise. That was a new one. He suddenly really wanted to see what Steve could do. God, he was pathetic. He could almost pin point the exact moment he'd turned into a huge sap for the blond moose this weekend, and he couldn't help but love it.

  
"Yeah.. half the paintings in the house are actually mine." Steve murmured, shrugging a shoulder at him. "I even painted the mural in the Roadhouse bar."

  
"Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

  
"Because I didn't think it mattered. You didn't seem interested in anything about me aside from work for the longest time, so I didn't want to burden you with it." James could see the faint hurt flashing across Steve's face and a huge gnawing guilt ate at his chest.

  
"I wish I had." the editor murmured, meeting Steve's gaze before dropping his head to the pillow, next to him. "I was looking at those paintings yesterday. They're exceptional. You could be a professional. If writing doesn't ever pan out for you, maybe i'll help get you into the field in New York. I do have some connections to some great Art Magazines." He bit his lip and lowered his gaze. "Maybe when this whole thing is over i'll let you design me a new tattoo..."

  
Steve smiled at him and reached up to brush his fingers along James' jaw. The two of them met gazes for the longest time, breaths mingling in a warm puff every few beats until they felt hot and overwhelmed. They were so close, it could just take leaning in an inch...

  
So James did. He leaned into Steve, letting his lips brush over the blond's. He felt Steve jolt a little in surprise and his cheeks flared with disappointment and embarrassment. Maybe he'd sorely misread this whole thing, and James kicked himself stupid for it. But just as he was about to pull away and dismiss the whole thing, Steve leaned in, closing the last of the gap between them and kissing him firmly. It was chaste at first, no more than a press of lips against lips, but after a moment, Steve delved forward, brushing his tongue against James' bottom lip carefully, asking for entrance.

  
James gave it to him, parting his mouth a bit and letting Steve in. He soaked up his warmth, his essence, the faint tinge of whiskey on his breath barely there, but giving him a spicy flavor that James instantly became addicted to. He surged forward, nipping the blond's lower lip, suckling the flesh until it became puffy and red. James found his hand trailing up Steve's arm to his shoulder and then the side of his neck, gripping the column of flesh firmly as he pulled him closer. Their breaths were hot and warm, making him feel like he wanted to crawl out of his skin with happiness. He could feel Steve's hand carding through the now dry hair, gripping it at the base of his skull and holding him close. It was the most intense kiss he'd ever felt in his life and the feeling made him want to fly. God he already felt like he was flying,.. he was lighter than air. A great ball of light formed in his chest and threatened to spill out of every pore in his skin, shoot out from his fingers and light him up like a damn Christmas tree. This was the closest James had ever felt to real happiness in his whole life, and to be sharing it with Steve... If James died in his sleep that night, he knew he was vindicated for all of his sins. All of his past transgressions. He felt young and bright and glorious, like God was smiling at him and giving him a shred of the joy he'd been seeking for nearly a decade.

  
The two stayed like this for a moment, kissing and clinging to each other hungrily before they broke contact, panting a little. They stayed like that, foreheads pressed together and twin smiles on their lips as they tried to catch their breath. After a moment, Steve spoke, nuzzling James' cheek. "It's good to finally meet the real you, Bucky..."

  
James didn't know why, but that sentence struck a chord deep in his chest and he choked on his breath. The smile on his lips cracked through again, brightening his eyes a little as he nodded. "Yeah.. it's good to finally meet you too, Stevie."

  
"You know it's not just your parents that are with you. When I said I was with you in this deal, this.. whole thing. I meant it. Me too, Buck. I'm with you 'til the end of the line."

  
James gasped, his eyes stinging sharply as he smiled at him. "Yeah? Yeah... me too." he murmured, still brushing his fingers along Steve's cheek, touching and memorizing him as much as he possibly could.

  
"Maybe when this whole thing is over and we're good and married, I can take you on a real date." The blond murmured, closing his eyes and nuzzling back into contact with him. "If you want, that is..."

  
James laughed, closing his eyes and soaking up the contact from Steve. He'd never fully deserve this wonderful man... but dammit if he wasn't going to snatch up everything he could while mercy still smiled on him. "I'd like that... "

* * *

 

Author's notes:

I don't actually have many notes, I just wanted to post these pretties for you guys

 footies!

 This just looks like those two spooning so lovely like in bed and I can't even...

 

 (original art source:http://brumous.tumblr.com/post/32924996831/steve-bucky-enjoying-a-peaceful-morning)

 

And Finally, the masterpiece:

DONT THEY LOOK SO GORGEOUS TOGETHER?! (also is it just me or does the blond kind of look like the lovechild of Chris Evans and Jensen Ackles? But the brunet... that is Bucky SPOT ON!) 

 

NOW KISS!!!!!

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thar be smut ahead and rough seas to come my flock! Keep those tissues handy, you're not done with them yet!!!!!
> 
> Updated tags just fyi


	9. Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James finally tells Steve about his past with Brock and what it did to his heart. Steve rectifies his pain as the two finally fall in love and make good on consummating that revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR PAST DOMESTIC ABUSE. I REPEAT. TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR PAST DOMESTIC ABUSE.
> 
> I don't have many notes for you guys, I just wanted to make absolutely sure that if you have a trigger for domestic violence, it is displayed in this chapter. But don't worry, I make up for it with nice smut at the end of the chapter. Enjoy.

2:48am Sunday morning. Steve blinked his eyes open sleepily and glanced at the clock, confusion written across his face. The fire had burned down to embers in the fire pit next to the bed, and the room felt almost uncomfortably hot. The sensation of a warm weight on his side made him pause in bewilderment as he tried to shift in the bed. It almost felt like there was a body laying on top of him...

  
Glancing down, he saw a mop of dark hair on his shoulder and the long, lean form of a figure sprawled in the bed next to him, arm and leg strewn over his torso. It took his brain a moment to put two and two together and when he did he almost laughed.  
James was snoring against him, his face lax and serene as he snoozed with his head resting on his chest. Steve stared down at James for a moment, the smile softening slightly before he reached up and carded his fingers through his hair, combing the wild locks away from his forehead. The blond found he was smitten by the figure laying on him, sleeping for all the world as if he didn't have a care to darken his beautiful features.

  
Steve didn't dare move. He simply lay beneath James, letting the smaller man use him like a body pillow. Ask him three days ago if he would have allowed this and the answer would have been a profound "Hello no!". What a wonder three days could do to a person. Steve continued to comb his fingers through the unruly strands, straightening the curls and knots until his hair lay in a smooth curtain across his forehead. He didn't think he'd ever feel this happy with someone, simply laying in bed with him while he slept, and enjoying his presence. Least of all, James. But after long talks and breaking the hard shell that had been his boss' facade, Steve found that the beast had had a large heart all along. He just wondered what sort of relationship history James had that would have turned him so nasty and bitter. Whatever the case may have been, Steve felt an odd sort of frustration in his chest towards whoever had been responsible for sullying his spirit. He didn't blame James' parents, or God. That had just been an unfortunate series of events that kick started the downhill slide.

  
No, whatever had happened to James in his past had to be tied to the mysterious Brock. And Steve was surprised to find his fingers tightening in James' hair slightly at the thought that such a monster, the REAL monster, could corrupt someone as charming and beautifully spirited as James.

  
After a few more minutes of laying with James, Steve felt his discomfort levels growing to be a little unbearable. His mother had been right. He ran hot, and with James' combined heat and the last of the fire burning in the corner, the room was sweltering. Surely James had warmed up fully by now from his unfortunate fall into the lake. So with extra care, Steve extracted himself from James' side and slipped from the bed to go crack the window and grab a drink of water to cool himself. He slipped his sleep pants and a sweater on over his torso and crept from the room, leaving James in the bed alone.

  
Surprising for his size, Steve slipped through the house silently, into the kitchen and stood next to the sink as he downed a bottle of cold water in a few swallows. He leaned his hip against the counter, staring out the bay window to the yard outside. In the corner of the room, Cap lay curled up on his massive doggy bed, snoring loudly as he kicked and twitched in his sleep, obviously dreaming of being on the hunt. He smiled to himself, relishing the moment of silence to let his thoughts sink in. He wanted to know what had happened to James that made him so cold for so long. He wanted to know now, if only to try and finish thawing out the rest of his heart. After everything they'd gone through in the past 50 something hours, Steve knew without a doubt that everyone had pegged James wrong... that HE had been guilty of the same crime. Granted, James didn't make it hard for anyone to believe the affirmative in those negative thoughts, but a shield was strong when it needed to be and James had so many built walls up for so long, it was a wonder that only two days had crumbled them so efficiently.

  
Maybe James just needed to spend some time away from the hectic world, and spend it with people who genuinely gave a shit, to realize that the world wasn't such a bad place. Everyone up here had hearts much to big for their bodies. Hell, when James had finally fallen asleep on his chest, Steve had heard his phone buzzing to life with multiple text messages. Almost everyone who had been at the bar had heard about the editor's fall and were worried sick that he was injured, or worse. Word traveled fast when Wade was involved, it seemed.

  
Steve had reassured everyone that James was OK and on the mend, and everyone had replied promptly with well wishes for him. That's all James needed: real friends and family that cared about him to make up for all the years he'd spent alone, carefully constructing those impenetrable walls. Steve had never been more grateful for the people in his life. He was glad that he got to meet the real James finally, and rewrote the past he had with him. This was someone he could seriously see himself with, after all, and he was more excited about that thought than he ever thought he'd be. Sure it was a little unconventional how it had come about, but he couldn't complain. Steve's life had never been conventional.

  
With a smile, he refilled the bottle in his hand and took it with him, in case James woke and felt a little parched from the hot room. When he finally made his way to the room, Steve stood by the fireplace for a moment, watching James. The brunet had shifted in the bed, appropriating nearly the entire thing as he'd spread out in his sleep. The editor was face down into the pillows, his arms wrapped around them and his torso exposed to the cold air. Steve found his eyes trailing along the planes of James' back, noting the muscles stretching carefully beneath smooth skin, like a carefully sculpted statue. For someone who worked in an office nearly 60 hours a week, James was surprisingly toned and strong, his waist tapered slightly from a broader chest and shoulders, his hips narrow and defined. His legs, which were obscured by the blanket, posed neatly beneath the covers, folded and stretched respectively, hard edges and defined muscle. Steve couldn't help but let his eyes wander over his body, soaking in the sight and enjoying it to the fullest. He smiled to himself, a soft crook of the corner of his mouth as he pictured waking up to that every day. He could definitely get by that.

  
Steve was so caught up in his daydream, he nearly missed the almost inaudible whimpers coming from James. It took a brief lull in the crackling of the fire embers before Steve heard the pained sound coming from his boss, and his attention was caught. He stared at him for a moment, wondering if he'd been hearing things... but no. There it was again. It was a low, scared sound and James was beginning to shift in the bed, looking uncomfortable in the throes of a dream turned nightmare. Steve's eyes blew wide as he realized the distress he was in, putting the bottle down on the table and crawling into the bed with him. Tentatively, he reached out a hand and touched James' shoulder, careful not to jar him too much. "James... James, wake up." He murmured, gently shaking his shoulder.

  
James didn't wake. Instead, the sudden shift had him suddenly wrenching away from Steve's hand, curling in on himself as the nightmare pulled him deeper. Now, Steve could see his face, and the scared expression in his sleep made his heart break. Whatever James was dreaming of, it had to be bad. Sure enough, a pained sound left James again, the hollow sound of "Brock!" eking into the quiet, almost too blurred to understand. Steve's hair stood up on the back of his neck and a fresh wave of anger towards this person had him bolstering with upset.

  
"Bucky!" he called, reaching over and pulling the editor towards him. James fought him for a brief moment, but the gentle touch of his palms seemed to calm him some as Steve wrapped his arms around his shoulders and hugged him close. "Bucky, wake up... Wake up. Come back to me..."

  
James jolted away at the voice, his eyes wide in panic as he looked up at the man holding him. It took him a fraction of a second to realize it was Steve, and he shrank back, embarrassment coloring his cheeks as he wrapped his arms around Steve's pillow and buried his face in it. "Sorry... Sorry, did I.. Did I wake you?" he asked, his voice muffled by the feather plush cushion. Steve didn't really understand why James sounded so ashamed of himself at that moment, but the feeling he got was not a good one.

  
"No, you didn't wake me. I was already awake." he murmured, stretching out next to him and frowning. "What were you dreaming about?"

  
The brunet didn't answer for a moment, keeping his face hidden by the pillow. After a few tense moments, his shoulders relaxed and he looked up at Steve, his face a plastic neutral. "Nothing... just... just a bad dream."

  
Steve stared at him for a long moment, his eyes reading the lie in his voice before he shook his head. "You said Brock again." he murmured, letting his fingers trail up and down James' arm. His suspicions were finally confirmed when James buried his face in the pillow again and he frowned. "James.. what are you not telling me about this Brock guy? Is he someone you know?"

  
James nodded slowly, looking up at Steve and offering him a weak smile. "If you want a classic story fit for the Lifetime channel, yeah you'd have my history with Brock..."

  
"Is he who you got the ring from?" Steve asked, feeling like the gold band was beginning to burn into his finger at the very thought. If he had, then like fucking hell would he continue to wear it!

  
"GOD, no. Fuck, I'd never keep a ring from someone like him. The tattoo is enough." James blurted before he realized what he was saying. His eyes widened as he realized he'd spilled his biggest secret of the weekend and he buried his face in the pillow again. "Never mind..."

  
Steve wasn't having that. He shook his head and pulled James closer to him, making the brunet look up at him. "No. Tell me. You need to get this out. It's been eating at you for long enough." He said, his voice surprisingly firm. He was satisfied to see James taking attention to his tone and not shying away this time. "Tell me what happened."

  
There was a pause between them. James met Steve's gaze head on before he could muster up the courage to tell him. His voice was hesitant. "I went to college at Macromedia University for Media and Communication in Munich, Germany. I know it's a mouthful but it was a good school for me at the time and they had exactly what I wanted to study in. I started.. a year earlier than everyone else my age and moved to Munich for school. Mama and Papa were the ones to push me to go, and.. had I not gone, I probably would have died in the fire that killed them. I wouldn't have been out with my friends celebrating being home again after not seeing them for months, and I would have been in the house when the stove exploded. I thought I was going to drop out after they died, but.. I kept going. I wanted to get my degree and get out of there as fast as possible, try to forget the ugly years I spent. My... second year in school, I met a man named Brock Rumlow. He said he was an exchange student from Washington D.C., studying in law in Munich. I thought it was a little weird that he was so old and just now studying abroad... but I was at a point where I didn't much care for anything anymore and didn't think much else of it. I began to speak with him frequently between classes, somewhat.. platonically... until he wore me down and asked me out. I agreed. In the beginning, he was a perfect gentleman, always around, always comforting... I spilled all the ugly details of my parents' deaths to him and he comforted me. Our second date, I slept with him.. and it was all downhill from there." He breathed deeply, his shame filling his features before he continued. "I found out after the fact that Brock wasn't a student. He was the leader of a platoon of ex-marines, known as Hydra, who were court marshaled by the American government and dishonorably discharged." He paused, looking up at Steve for a moment.

  
"You remember the Christmas party I told you about... the uh... drinking party that Christmas eve? The reason I was so upset that night was because.. well, Brock had been there with me, and he was completely wasted. He kept bragging to the other students and his squad about how he was "getting some" that night and kept touching me in front of everyone. So I slapped him and told him to keep his hands to himself if he was going to be an asshole." He bit his lip and shook his head. "You're gonna think I'm stupid for being upset about this..."

  
"What did he do?" Steve asked without preamble. He didn't really like the way this conversation was going, and it showed on his features.

  
".. he hit me. As hard as he fucking could in front of everyone and told me that I had to know my place if I was going to be with him. Nearly broke my nose, black eye.. the works. I left the party right after and cried the whole walk home, bleeding on my coat.. I was a fucking mess."

  
"Why the HELL would I think you were stupid for being upset!" Steve asked, sounding completely taken aback by the words. "He punched you because you wouldn't sleep with him! That's abuse, you had every right to be upset."

  
"Because, I stayed with him!" James shot back, looking up at him with a heavy frown. "For three fucking years I stayed with him, all because I was too scared to be alone again." He closed his eyes, his mind trailing back to the memory he'd had in the lake, and a shudder overtook him. James really didn't know why, but the words flowed out of him faster than he could stifle them, his memories coming back as he recounted his past.

  
"I was.. I was dreaming about the last time I saw him. It was 4 months after my 20th birthday, and I had decided I wanted to leave him for good..."

  
_July 28th, 2007_

  
_Yasha stared at his suitcase, his heart hammering in his chest. Terror rippled through his veins like a tidal wave, but his resolve had long since been made up. He was tired of being under Brock's careful eye constantly. He was tired of being hit and slapped and forced into doing whatever Brock wanted, when he wanted. Yasha knew that he had eyes on him at all times.. Brock's friends always kept careful tabs on him to make sure he didn't sway from their ringleader's side. He hated this. He hated wearing long sleeve shirts in the summer to hide the bruises, or hats to mask the patches of hair that had been pulled out of his scalp. He hated constantly wearing sunglasses to cover up the black eyes and he hated most of all that he couldn't tell anyone._

  
_He was tired of being a mindless puppet._

  
_He hated himself for staying with Brock this long. Just turned 20 years old and feeling like a scared pup every time he went out into public. But he had stayed with Brock because he was convinced that this was the only kind of love he was allowed to have in his life. In a sick twisted way, it almost made sense._

  
_Currently, the youth was sporting a series of ugly bruises all along his left arm, sprained muscles and joints and serious friction burn on his left bicep. The night before had been absolutely rough... had ended with a lot of screaming and fighting, and Brock had used all of his strength to shove Yasha around, injuring his arm in the process._

  
_No. He'd had enough. Nearly three years of this was much too long and he knew if he stayed, he'd end up hospitalized, or dead. Would he honor his parents' memory like that? Hell no. He was going to finish school and leave the continent, go to America and start over._

  
_But first he had to break up with Brock, once and for all._

  
_Sighing to himself, Yasha finished packing his things up and left the room, determined to take a bath and clean off the phantom sensations of Brock's hands on him. He'd stripped, taking care not to look at the fading yellow marks on his skin, or the fresh black bruises on his arm. Instead, he crawled into the bath, taking a few extra minutes longer than he normally would to get cleaned up. He then closed his eyes and relished the warmth he felt, soaking up the comfort into his sore arm with a sigh._

  
_Yasha ALMOST drifted off in the bath, but the sound of a door slamming shut had his eyes flying open and he scrambled from the bath, slipping and dripping wet as he grabbed a towel and dried himself off quickly. "No, no, no!" He gasped to himself. He hadn't intended on falling asleep. He had wanted to hide the suitcase from Brock and leave at the very last possible moment after telling him it was over. He didn't want to be found out like this, half naked and vulnerable. But as he dashed into the room, he saw the older man glaring down at the suitcase on the bed. Brock turned, a deathly slow rotation as he glared at Yasha, his grey eyes flashing angrily._

  
_"The fuck is this, Yasha?" He growled, pointing at the suitcase on the bed. He advanced on the terrified youth, his arms snaking out to grip his elbows. Yasha yelped in pain as his left arm was grabbed and he tried to pull away from him. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?"_

  
_Yasha stared up at him with wide eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. "Please.. let me go! I can't stay here anymore, Brock." Pathetic. He'd practiced some grand speech to give to Brock, maybe throw a few expletives around, witty and smart comments about the abuse he'd put up with for three years... none of that came out. He just sounded like a scared kid begging to be released by the playground bullies. Of course._

  
_"Can't stay here anymore... So you think you can just walk out and leave me." Brock sneered, his fingers tightening around Yasha's elbows, hard enough to leave fresh bruises on his skin. His eyes brightened when he heard Yasha yelp out in pain and shoved him back into the wall hard enough to knock a picture frame off of its stud. "You're not fucking going anywhere. You're part of us now, kid. You decided that when you met me."_

  
_"Stop!" Yasha begged, trying to wrench from his grip. He succeeded in getting his right arm free, but the left was locked up tight in his fingers and his back smarted from the impact. He flinched in pain from the grip. "Stop it!"_

  
_"I don't fucking think so." Brock snarled, dragging him from the wall and into the bathroom. He shoved Yasha against the sink, crowding into his space as he gripped him tight. His mouth found the youth's neck, biting down and breaking the skin, marking him. Yasha screamed in pain, kicking into Brock's groin._

  
_That managed to get him free and he tried to run past the older man. Brock was too fast, however, and grabbed him again, shoving him back into the bathroom. Yasha tripped when he felt the backs of his legs knock into the bath and he tumbled in, towel and all into the still tepid water with a splash. Before he could right himself, he felt hands wrap around his throat and shove his head into the water, holding him down. He panicked, hands flying to Brock's wrists as he tried to fight his way out of the bath._

  
_He struggled for a few moments, holding onto precious air before he felt Brock lift him from the water. He wheezed in a lungful, coughing loudly as he struggled against his grip. "Please!" Yasha gasped, staring up at him with wide eyes._

  
_Brock simply sneered down at him, his eyes wild with fury as he again shoved his head under the water briefly, his fingers tightening around his throat. "See what I mean, Yash? Useless. Just useless without me. You'd be fucked without me. Stick with me, kid. I'm never gonna let you go. This pain right here... it ain't nothing compared to what you've got in store for you if you leave. You're gonna stick with me for life if you know what's good for you..."_

  
_Yasha tried to speak, but his throat hurt and the water in his lungs burned. His head was shoved under the water again and he kicked and flailed, splashing water all over the bathroom. When he reemerged from the bath a third time, he was sobbing in terror, fingernails cutting deep rivets into Brock's wrists. But the man was formidable, never once flinching at the assault as he continued to try and drown him right there in the bathroom. "No!" he gasped, staring up at Brock before shaking his head. "I don't need you! I can get by on my own!"_

  
_""You're gonna die just like your folks, Yasha. I'm the only good thing you got left, so drop the shit and stick with me." the man growled._

  
_Fury overwrote fear in Yasha's mind as he stared up at him. The mention of his parents had him seeing red and he clawed at Brock's hands, fighting to get out of the water. "I'd rather die.. than be with you..." he panted, feeling exhaustion seeping into his bones from fighting against him._

  
_"Then you're a fucking idiot, like I always thought you were. I hope you don't mind being the only person at your funeral." Brock shoved his head under the water again. This time he held it, and smirked at him through the tumultuous water above Yasha's head. He didn't move, even when Yasha's struggling began to lessen, his arms going limp into the bath. He didn't let go..._

  
~*~

  
"I don't remember how he got off of me. Just.. one moment I had my head under the water, the next the Munich police were dragging him off of me and I blacked out. I never asked what happened. I never wanted to know. I just wanted to forget it ever happened. After that, I left that apartment for good and begged the school to let me stay on campus the remainder of my time in school. The only good thing that came of that... was that I never saw Brock again." James murmured, feeling his voice crack.

  
As he recounted the memory to Steve, silent tears rolled down his cheeks unbidden, his voice hitching every so often. He didn't even notice Steve wrap him up in his arms and hold him close as he delved back into his past, spilling out the last of his pain to him, baring what remained of his soul to the only man that had ever given enough of a shit about him to listen.

  
He only looked up when he heard an anguished sound coming from Steve. He looked up and gaped, his eyes wide in shock. Steve was crying... Full on crying as he recounted his past with Brock to him. It was then he finally felt the wetness on his own cheeks and he reached up, scrubbing his knuckles over his skin. "I never dated anyone again after that. Every man I saw walking down the street was Brock at every turn, and I hated it. I was so scared all the time that it would happen again that i just.. shut off. I stopped feeling. I haven't had sex since him... I've been too scared to, no matter how much I want it. I'm afraid I'll find another Brock. He was the last straw after my parents died." He hiccuped quietly, feeling his lower lip trembling. "Every time I saw someone happy and loved, I just.. I couldn't stand it. I didn't understand why I wasn't allowed to have that kind of peace.. So I alienated everyone, pushed them away, despised people for having what I couldn't have. I let seven years go by without ever trying again and... And I was such a fucking idiot..." The bubble of pain in his chest welled up as he spilled all of this to Steve, threatening to come out in an explosion. His shoulders trembled in Steve's grip and he began to cry, burying his face in his hands. "I'm so fucked up... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I'm so broken."

  
Steve was floored. He listened to James recount the last of his memories to him, open up to him fully and delve into what had turned him so cold, and.. and he couldn't help himself. The pain was too much. Whimpering, he pulled James into his arms and held him close, letting the brunet bury himself in his chest and weep. "You're not broken. You're not an idiot. You wouldn't have done so much on your own if you were broken. You're so much stronger than you think you are, Bucky. I'm so proud of you and I'm so.. SO sorry you went through that." He murmured, letting his own tears run down his cheeks and into James' hair. "I'm not going to let you go through that again. I'm with you, Bucky. I'm not going anywhere."

  
The bubble burst in James' chest. A wave of emotion washed over him finally as a shattered cry left his chest, breaking him down to his very core. He dissolved into sobs, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist and clinging to him as he cried into his chest. He let Steve rock him, brush his hand along his bare back, comb through his hair, soothe him...

  
He wept for God only knew how long, but each sob that left him, he felt the weight on his chest lessening with each one. Finally having told someone the truth about his past, the WHOLE truth... he felt liberated, like he could finally piece himself back together. His cries were cathartic., like he was washing his slate clean and starting fresh without the ugly oil marks left on his spirit for far too long. He just couldn't believe that someone like Steve could fully accept everything he'd told him without hesitation, and actually NOT hate him for it. He couldn't believe he'd found his own angel, his own guardian after so long. James had been so scared to bare his soul to anyone for over a decade, and now that he'd finally succeeded in doing so, he felt like he could finally heal.

He had no idea how he'd gotten so lucky. He had no idea why God had decided to give him this second chance, and why so late in his life, but he wasn't letting it go while he had it. Even if it really did only last the weekend.

  
Gradually, James' breathing slowed down and his sobs melted into hiccups before he caught his breath. He loosened his arms from around Steve's waist, pressing his forehead to Steve's shoulder. As he got himself under control, he realized the blond had his lips pressed to his crown and was mouthing something, over and over and over again. He didn't know what Steve was saying, but he had a pretty good idea of what it could be... After a few moments, James found the strength to pull away from Steve's chest and look up at him. His eyes were red, cheeks splotchy... but a smile ghosted over his lips as he looked up at him, his eyes shining with affection for the only person in the world whom he felt safe enough to bare himself to. The last shackle on his heart fell away as he looked up at him, feeling loved well and truly.

  
He was free.

  
Steve felt the electric shock of James' eyes on him and he shivered, reaching up to wipe his palm over his own cheeks and dry the sympathetic tears away. He smiled back at him, nodding a little before he reached up and rubbed his thumb over James' cheeks, smearing away the last of the salty trails on his skin. "The tattoo.. it's Brock's unit emblem isn't it?" he asked, fighting to keep his voice steady. When James nodded, biting his lower lip hard enough to make it bleed, Steve gently ran his thumb over the flesh, easing it from the abuse his teeth were giving it. "Don't... I understand why you have it. It's a reminder of what happened. It's armor. Armor you carried for way too long. And I want you to know.. You don't need it."

  
When James gave him a confused tilt of his head, Steve continued. "You're so much stronger than you think, I really mean it. Look at you. No one I know who claimed to be strong could ever had come out and said something like that to anyone. They don't have a fraction of the kind of fortitude you have. I don't know many people who would have the courage to speak up like this, even if it is a decade late." He watched James duck his head and flush pink, hiding his eyes from him. Steve wasn't having that. He shook his head and tilted James' jaw up, gently gripping him so as not to startle him and steered his eyes to his own. "Look at me, and believe me when I say that. You're a fighter, you always have been. It's the American in you." Steve let him mull over his words for a moment before he pressed his hand over James' left shoulder, covering the tattoo on his skin and hiding it from the world. He pressed his lips to James' and lingered, letting the man fold into the kiss as he wished. "Your mama and papa would be so proud of you right now."

  
James whimpered, nodding a little as he pressed his lips to Steve's in a fierce and desperate kiss. He wrapped his arms around Steve's neck and nipped at Steve's lower lip as he fought to gain some sort of affection to ease his aching chest. Vaguely he wondered if Steve would be receptive to this, but he just felt this cloying NEED... he NEEDED Steve. Needed him in every way possible, like he couldn't breathe without him. In a way he COULDN'T breathe without him. Steve had done absolutely everything that no therapist, no perfect "lover" could ever do for him. If he believed in destiny, he'd say he found his "One" right there in the arms of a man he'd pushed around for way too long and nearly lost. James would never forgive himself for treating this perfect creature the way he had. He'd do everything for the rest of his life to make it up to him, no matter the costs.

  
Digging his fingers into the blond's hair, James panted and pulled back, pressing his forehead to the other's as he met his gaze. Those blue depths were mesmerizing... swirls of Robin's egg blue and cerulean that sparkled like a galaxy, and drew him in like a promise. He was fairly certain that if Heaven was real, he was looking at it right now. James knew he was done for. He'd crashed head long into devotion for this man right then and there, having fought it for as long as he could, and he wondered why he'd even bothered to resist in the first place. He felt like he could fall into his perfect human being and never leave him, let Steve possess him and always remain safe and wanted. James didn't think he'd ever fall in love with someone. What a weekend for surprises...

  
"I love you." he murmured against Steve's lips, meeting his gaze a little desperately. He waited, biting his own lip in anticipation.

  
Steve stared at him as he spoke those words, stunned. James loved him. Shit... this wasn't a dream. The blond's face split into a huge grin as he laughed, letting his head fall back a pace before he met his eyes again. "I love you, too." Steve replied, wasting no time in dragging James into his arms once again and devouring him.

  
Lips clashed together as the two fell into each other, wrapped up in each other's arms and not once letting go. James never felt so much heat in one moment, the two of them desperate to connect. He trailed his fingers down Steve's collar and pushed the hem of his sweater from his shoulders, pulling the cloth down and tossing it to the side as he sought out more skin, more of everything that made him Steve Rogers. He felt like his blood was boiling beneath the surface, desperation and passion growing exponentially with each hurried breath and every little whimper between them.

  
When the sweater was divested, he pushed Steve down onto the bed, throwing his leg over his lap and straddling him. He could feel the hard line of the blond's cock against his own, separated only by the thin clothing between them. Without breaking stride, he reached down and thumbed over the head of his dick through the thin pants and underwear between them, eliciting a heady moan from Steve. That sound alone drove him further as he let his fingers ghost over him, feeling the heat pulsing off of him in waves. James was no longer scared of sex. He wanted Steve. He wanted him so fucking badly he could barely stand it, in every way possible. His heart felt like it would burst right out of his chest as he worked his hand over Steve's cock, wrapping his long fingers around its girth as he stroked.

  
Steve allowed James to control him, push him down onto the bed and control his every motion. He let his head fall into the pillow with a sigh, reaching up to cup the other's ass in his palms. Rubbing the smooth mounds gently, he encouraged him, pulling him closer until they ground against each other, hips undulating between them with a moan. "Fuck.. fuck, Bucky.. I need these off..." he panted, looking down at the offending clothing between them. Pulling on the hem of his boxer briefs, he tugged the tight cloth off of James' ass and down his thighs, baring him fully to him as he cupped the warm flesh, full skin contact against his palms until he was ready to cry with bliss.

  
James followed suit, reaching between them to grip Steve's pants and yank them down his legs. He quickly crawled off of him long enough to pull the clothes away, throwing them over the side of the bed in a heap. Finally, they lay gloriously nude together, feeling not a speck of shame between them. God, Steve looked like a fucking piece of art... sculpted body of an Adonis, his cock cut, red and ready for him. He stared for a moment at his girth, letting his fingers glide over the silky flesh before he stroked him fully, wrapping his fist around him and pumping his hand a few times. He wanted to taste him. He wanted to have him all. He looked up at Steve for a moment, asking permission with his eyes before he leaned down and wrapped his lips around his length, sucking him down in one go. Steve tasted wonderful, heady musk and everything he could ever want. James was hungry for him, bobbing his head in even, long strokes as he took him to the hilt, moaning as he reached his throat. The response it elicited was perfection in its finest form, and he found himself grinning around his dick as he drew back, suckling the tip and diving back down again until his nose brushed the hairs of his groin.

  
The blond gasped, gripping the back of James' hair as he guided him along his length, slowing his movements for a few moments before tugging to pick up the pace again. "God... fuck... you keep doing that and I'm not gonna last long." He groaned, tossing his head to the side as he writhed beneath his onslaught.

  
James pulled off of his length with a wet pop, smiling up at him as he resumed stroking him fully. "We wouldn't want that, now would we?" He asked, the picture of innocence with his mouth looking fucked out and slick with spit. Still grinning wickedly up at him, he dove back down to lick at the tip of his cock, his mouth delivering tiny, kitten kisses before enveloping the tip and sucking. Steve's whine was music as he continued to assault his senses, over-sensitizing him before letting go mercifully. "You're fucking gorgeous..."

  
"Get the fuck up here." Growled Steve as he yanked James back up and attacked his mouth. Biting, gnashing teeth against swollen lips had James mewling as he felt Steve's strong hand wrap around his own cock and stroke him fiercely. He bucked into his grip with a howl of pleasure, burying his mouth into Steve's shoulder and biting down. Both of them writhed on the bed as one, rutting and grinding against each other as they fought against their own senses, trying to hold onto whatever sanity they could.  
"I want you.. fuck, I want you, Stevie." James whimpered, looking up at him with pupils blown wide, almost obscuring the rings of ice blue in his own eyes.

  
Steve wasted no time. He flipped them over, tossing James to his back and crawling down his body to kiss and nip the skin, leaving marks in his wake as he clambered down to his prize. But much to James' surprise, he didn't stop at his cock. Instead, he threw James' legs over his shoulders, hefting his ass up into the air until it was bared to him, and spread his cheeks with his thumbs to stare at the puckered ring, throbbing and waiting to be taken. Steve pressed his lips against the ring, licking and kissing the hole he wanted so feverishly, laving at it until James was twitching and squirming on the bed and rocking his hips back against his mouth for more. "You're so good, Bucky... so perfect."

  
"Oh GOD!" James gasped, his head lolling back against the pillow as he whined, a keening pitch in his throat as he tried to thrust down against the tongue teasing his hole, desperate to feel more of him. The warm air of the room filled with his whimpers, groans low and chesty as he fisted the blankets beneath him. When Steve's tongue prodded him, pressing against the tense muscle until he pierced his body, James grunted, a low "Uhn!" echoing in the room as he wrapped his legs around his neck and pulled him closer. "Uunn.. Auh.. More oh God.. fuck.. more!"

  
No more than a second later a spit slicked finger was pressing into him, crooking inside his tight channel, searching... seeking... Sparks suddenly flew behind his eyelids when Steve's finger found his prize, prodding and pressing against the bundle of nerves inside his body that had him going breathless, a near silent scream in his throat as he tensed around him. "That! Do that again, NNGH!"

  
"Hold still." Steve breathed, pulling back from feasting on him to add a second finger into his channel. He scissored his digits, working to loose the tight muscles around them. When he could feel James loosening up, he added his tongue again, prodding inside until he had his cheeks pressed firmly against his ass. He worked his way into his body, splitting him in two as he groaned against his ass, relishing the delicious heat inside him as he pressed a third finger into him, down to the third knuckles. Even celibate for as long as he had been, James responded beautifully, opening up to him like they were meant to be.

  
"Steve.. Steve.. i can't.. I'm too close!" James wheezed, looking down at him as he clawed at the blankets, his legs trembling around his neck. His brow was speckled with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. His heart felt like it was bursting in his chest, growing too large for him to contain, and his skin felt like it was on fire. "Please... please!"

  
Mercifully, Steve eased up, pulling away from his body to kiss a long, languid trail up his body, up his torso, leaving kisses peppered along the sweaty skin. He loomed over James, grabbing his leg and throwing it over his waist. He bridged himself over his partner, staring down at him with lust burning like a beacon in his eyes. He pulled James into another kiss, this time slow and steady as he gave James a moment to calm down. When he could feel James easing up, relaxing beneath him, he pressed his forehead against his shoulder, kissing the tattoo along James' collarbone and worshiping his skin. A sudden urge overcame him as he did, the need to mark and claim him. He wanted to wash away all the hurt Brock had given James in the past, remind James that there were better things in this world than pain. Steve pressed kisses to his throat, wrapping his lips around his skin before biting into him. He claimed his throat, marking him with a deep purple signature of his love, erasing everything that Brock had left behind for good. "Mine..." he growled, rutting up against James' cock. The silky slide of cock to cock made them moan with pleasure.

  
"Jesus Christ, Steve if you don't fuck me I'm gonna come without you!" James hissed, baring his throat to Steve as the blond continued to mark him, worrying the skin until the bruise grew larger and larger. He wrapped both of his legs around Steve's waist and rocked up, grinding into him for the much needed friction he craved so desperately.

  
The blond laughed, looking down at him before nodding. "Don't move.." he ordered, eyes boring into the brunet's before he clambered off of the bed and ran for the bathroom, cock standing proudly at full attention. He rooted around the bathroom, finding a bottle of lotion in the drawer. It wasn't lube, but it would do. Darting back into the bedroom, he stopped to groan as he watched James stroking himself invitingly, watching him for a moment with his jaw slack.

  
"Are you coming back or am I finishing without you?" James asked, looking positively obscene. The hickey on his throat was a massive and dark, oversensitive splotch of invitation. He lay sprawled on the bed, hand moving in slow strokes over his weeping erection, begging Steve to come back and finish him. James chuckled as he saw Steve stumble the rest of the way to the bed, crawling up the mattress and tossing the lotion onto the pillow next to them. He grabbed the bottle from the pillow, squirting a liberal amount into his palm before crooking his finger at Steve and urging him forward. With the lotion warming in his hand, he wrapped his fingers around Steve's cock and gave a few pumps of his fist, coating him in the slick. When he felt that Steve was well coated, he used a bit more lotion, dribbling the wet cream onto his fingertips. Then, with his eyes boring into the other's, James reached down and began to finger himself, thrusting three digits into his own body with a sigh. "Fuck.. I can't wait to feel you splitting me in two like that.. fucking gonna love that huge prick filling me up..."

  
Steve mewled, watching James finger himself wantonly, spreading his legs like an erotic display before him as he worked himself back open. He allowed James to tug him down, allowed him to mouth at his throat and suck his own marks into his shoulder and collarbone, claiming him in return. "You're so damn gorgeous, Bucky.. fuck, I love you.." he panted, relishing the sting of those love bites bruising him, letting the slight not-quite-pain shoot straight to his dick and engorge him further.

  
"I love you too. Now... fuck me." James ordered, pulling his fingers free of his body and splaying out on the bed for Steve to take as he would. He trusted him completely, trusted him to do what he knew was right and bring him to the precipice of euphoria and let him fall. He trusted Steve to do right by him and let him know what it was like to sing Hallelujah.

  
The blond nodded, crawling over James' body. He hiked James' legs up, pulling him closer as he knelt on the bed, looking down at him. Swallowing audibly, he looked down at his prick twitching and waiting to impale James and he gripped himself, guiding it to his loosened hole. The initial pressure of the head prodding him had the two moaning simultaneously, and James wrapped his legs around Steve's waist, drawing him closer. Taking it as a hint to continue, Steve braced his fists into the bedding beneath them, rocking his hips up into James' body, little by little easing his way into his body. The heat was so tight, so overpowering he thought he'd lose his head before he even finished filling him. He gritted his teeth, panting raggedly as he stilled his hips, waiting for the wave of ecstasy to pass.

James moaned, his knees falling apart as he felt Steve begin to impale him, drawing him closer. He wanted more, fucking GOD he wanted more. Surging up, he pulled Steve into a kiss, biting his lips until they bruised as he gripped Steve's hips and dragged him in further. "Keep... going..." he panted, his body shrieking for more after so long.. so long, fuck, he didn't even know he'd missed this.

  
Steve nodded, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. After a moment, he bottomed out inside James' body, letting the other get used to his size. He held himself up, barely, by his elbows as he kissed him, more lazy mouthing than actually kissing. He couldn't believe it. They were connected, as close to being one entity as they ever could be, and Steve didn't know he could fall more in love with this man. Lifting his head, he stared down at James with a stupid, happy grin on his features as he ground his hips forward, dragging the tip of his cock against the sensitive nerves inside James. "Tell me... when you're ready..."

  
James nodded his head viciously, staring up at him with an open mouthed wonder. He didn't know sex could be this GOOD and they weren't even moving. Just the feeling of Steve inside him, closer than any other human being had ever been, and he was as high as a kite. Digging his fingertips into Steve's shoulders he nodded at him, unable to speak, and giving him the go ahead to move.

  
With permission granted, Steve withdrew from him, nearly all the way until the tip remained inside him. Giving James a feral look, he thrust back into him, firm and quick as he bottomed out again, drawing back and picking up a ravenous pace. The echo of skin against skin filled the room, battling the sounds of their voices meeting and dancing around each other in a wordless song.

  
Every thrust was a cadence, every moan a sonnet. They were two human beings joined together in perfect harmony as they held onto each other, connecting on a spiritual level as their bodies rode together, sweat slicked and hot. A chorus of "Auuh's" as they breathed each other in, filled the room, growing louder as the friction between them grew fiery. The lotion had long since soaked into their skin, but they were too needy for one another to stop. Steve mouthed at James' throat, marking him up like a canvas and a roadmap of the night. James' nails raked up and down Steve's back, leaving angry red lines on his flesh. Legs tightened around waist, connecting them deeper and deeper until they felt like they could crawl into each other and never leave. They climbed higher and higher, their voices unchecked and filling each other's very souls with bliss.

  
James could feel it first. The constant assault on his prostate had him seeing stars, the ball of tension in his belly growing tighter and tighter. James tried to hold on for a few moments longer, but his sac tightened up into his body as he drew closer to the end. "Steve... Stevie, I'm gonna... gonna come...!" James whispered, unable to speak any louder as he threw his head back with a spasm. He was so close... " C-close!!! Oh FUCK!"

  
Steve could read him like a well loved book. He could see the tension growing in James' body and he grinned, sinking his teeth into his flesh once again as he upped the pace. He, too, was on the verge of letting go. Body lines so taut, they could snap at any moment, Steve took the advantage. He angled his hips just right, hitting on James' sweet spot dead on with a few hurried thrusts. No longer just grazing the nerves, he attacked with vigor, drilling him over the edge and into a frenzy.

  
"FUCK!" James shouted, his eyes blown wide as he toppled over the edge to toe-curling insanity. His vision blurred white at the edges as he came, spurting pearly ropes across their skin until they were painted thoroughly. His channel clenched around Steve, stroking him like a vice with each thrust. "Oh FUCK STEVIE!"

  
Steve didn't last. The tension around him, hot and hard, the sound of his voice so wrecked, the sight of him losing it so perfectly... Steve followed after him, filling him with his own release as he groaned into his shoulder, rutting up into him twice more before his hips stilled and he rode the wave of his orgasm. It took them both a minute to come down from this high, breaths ragged and gulping. James could feel Steve's seed inside him, threatening to spill out. He didn't care in the slightest. Breathing heavily, he wrapped his arms around Steve's back, relishing the comforting weight of his partner draped across him. He pressed tired kisses to Steve's ear, smiling as he went limp against the bed, his legs falling uselessly to the sides.

  
Steve didn't move, his weakening erection still pressed into James. After a few tired minutes, he withdrew from his body, flopping to James' side, dragging him into his arms and spooning him despite the wet mess they were laying in. He couldn't help the exhausted laugh that left him, his lips trailing over abused flesh, blessing each mark he'd left on James' skin with tender brushes. They lay like this for several more moments until exhaustion made their eyes heavy with the need to sleep. Steve tightened his arms around James' waist, tucking them into the blankets once again and drawing him flush until they were lined up, every inch of skin touching in some way or another. "I love you, Bucky.." he murmured, never growing tired of repeating that sentiment to him. "I really do."

  
James lay in his arms, soaking up the heat while the after shocks of their lovemaking buzzed through his veins in a pleasant hum. The sting of bruises on his collarbones, his throat, his chest.. they made him feel more alive than he had ever felt, and he wondered why it had taken so long to find his soulmate. "I love you..." he slurred back to him. Steve and James slipped into blessed slumber finally, these once enemies bonded finally as lovers in a quiet Alaskan night. This was perfection in its highest form. This was real beauty. This was paradise.

  
Nothing could go wrong now...

 

* * *

 

No notes, just pretty things to look at :D

I hope this well placed visual commentary makes you laugh, because y'all are gonna kill me from here on out *hiding again*

 

 So first we have Steve coming back and admiring James while he sleeps.

 

 He's really realizing he's falling for James harder than he thought.. that's love right there, people.

 

 "James I love you so much but I dont know if you really share the same feelings as me but I'll stare at you all fond like from over here"

 

Oh hell yes he loves you too.

 Give him a kiss!

 

  *French accent* Hon hon hon, 'e likes eet rrrough! 

 

A deep and meaningful, connecting moment? 

 Yes. Yes indeed.

 

And then...

 

 Sex!!!

 

 SEX!!!!!

 

 SEEEEEEEXXXXXX!!!!!!!!

 

Thus concludes my visual commentary for the smutty portion of the chapter. Thank you for your time. :D

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One should never never.. NEVER, end a chapter with the words "Nothing could go wrong". It always does in the end...


	10. Self Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a beautiful night together, James and Steve feel as if nothing can go wrong. That quickly ends when Tony approaches James with the truth of his deception, and gives him an ultimatum: Come clean and give himself up to the government, or face the reality that Steve may take the fall for his sins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna give anything away, just gonna say this... I cried while writing this chapter.
> 
> You have been warned.

A quiet knock on the door echoed across the room, causing a stir within the bed. James groaned sleepily and snuggled up to the warm chest at his front. Somehow in the middle of the night, the blankets had managed to work their way down to the foot of the bed, and he'd turned back over to bury himself in Steve's chest, the two of them wrapped up in a tangle of limbs. The knocking returned and he stirred sleepily, a little confused by his position. But when he cracked an eye open fully and spotted the head of tousled blond hair above his, the owner snoring quietly into his shoulder, he smiled to himself and relaxed in Steve's arms.

  
Deep down, he never thought he'd have the opportunity to wake up in someone's arms like this. James had always thought that to be a movie trope meant only for those flicks he watched secretly late at night. But here he was, legs wrapped around Steve's, arms a warm nest at his torso, and the sweet smell of Steve's musk and stale sex permeating the air around him. James felt giddy with it all as he slowly unfurled from Steve's arms, trying not to wake him in the process. Then the knocking came a third time, followed by a voice.

  
"Boys! James, Stevie! Time to wake up!" Sarah called through the door, sounding far too amused as she waited patiently for some answer. "I've made breakfast, and it's almost noon!" Another pause before her voice pierced the wooden door again. "I'm coming in!"

  
"Steve!" James hissed, shaking Steve's shoulder to wake him up. "Steve your mother's at the door and she's coming in!" He looked up at the door to see the handle turning, and he panicked. Oh God, oh God, Sarah was going to see them both naked and covered in hickeys. James bit his lip and inhaled, silently apologizing for what he was about to do. He slapped Steve's temple, finally managing to rouse the blond from his dead sleep.

  
"Ow, Jesus!" Steve groaned, rubbing his head as he looked up at his boss with a petulant frown on his features. "Why'd you hit me?"

  
Before James could answer, however, the door swung open, followed by Sarah carrying a tray of food for both of them. James and Steve simultaneously dove back into the blankets with a yelp, covering up their indecency.

  
"MA! What are you doing barging in here?" Steve whined, staring at her with wide eyes.

  
Sarah just laughed, setting the tray down on the table before crossing her arms and giving them both appraising looks. She must have liked what she saw because her grin had turned from humored to grossly amused as she took stock of the dark bruises covering the two men's throats. "I gave the obligatory three knocks and neither of you answered. I had to make sure you both weren't dead. Looks like you two had a lot of fun last night." she added with a waggle of her eyebrow.

  
Both James and Steve groaned at the same time, covering their faces with the covers. "Maaaa..." Steve sighed, hiding from the world under the still sticky sheets. He peeked over at his left, where James was curled up next to him beneath their tent of blankets. But instead of looking completely embarrassed, James was twitching in silent mirth, laughing into his balled up fist at the situation. "Oh sure, side with her and make this a big old joke." Steve grumbled, poking his head out of the blankets to stare at his mother accusingly. "I blame you."

  
"I will accept the blame wholeheartedly. Now the two of you eat and get showered up. It's Aunt Peggy's birthday today and the town is hosting a picnic at 4." Sarah tossed over her shoulder. "Dress nicely, you two." Sarah then disappeared from the bedroom for a moment. But before Steve and James had had the chance to extract themselves from the blankets, she poked her head back into the room, setting a bottle of concealer down on the mantle of the fireplace before shooting them both a wink and slipping once again from the room.

  
Steve and James stared at the door where Sarah had vanished from, gob-smacked by the whole thing. When they glanced at each other, they burst into laughter at the whole ridiculous situation. "I like your mom. She's funny." James commented, still snickering through the embarrassing situation.

  
"Yeah, I like her too. I think I'll keep her."

  
James just grinned back at Steve, leaning up to press a kiss to his still pouting lips. "Good morning, by the way." He murmured, sighing against his lips before giving the lower one a sharp nip. That drew a gasp from Steve, a gasp that sent a thrill of excitement to James' belly. But he couldn't let the two of them delve back into what they'd done just a few hours ago. They really had to get up before his mother came back in and found them both humping shamelessly on the bed. Nope.

  
Grin turning playful, he pulled away from Steve and crawled from the bed, making a show of stretching while he stood. When he glanced over his shoulder at Steve, he found the blond's eyes raking over his naked form and he laughed. "Down boy. We have to be presentable today." James teased him, reaching down to grab his phone from the charger and check for any emails from work. There were none, but an unknown number sat on his screen under the "missed calls" log. He didn't recognize the number, but found that there was no voice mail attached to it. Must have been a wrong number.

  
James set the phone back down on the table and didn't give it a second thought as he grabbed the plate of wheat free cinnamon rolls and chewed one happily, thinking of the day to come.

  
~*~

  
The day had turned out to be surprisingly hot despite the cold snap that had overtaken the town the night before. Everyone had taken the day off from their shops to join in the festivities of the picnic, held in honor of their oldest citizen. Afternoon melted into early evening as people sang "Happy Birthday" to Peggy and ate plates upon plates of delicious meals, cooked out of love and shared amongst each other.

  
They'd been at the party for a few hours now, enjoying everyone's company and laughing. James sat at the picnic table with Steve and his parents, watching as people bustled about the grounds, granting Peggy many happy returns and delivering presents to her. The elderly woman looked gorgeous today, dressed in a simple red dress, her gray hair curled and her smile radiant. For 90 years old, she looked vivacious and ready to take on the world, and James found he was enthralled by her vigor. He definitely could see himself with this dear woman in his life.. hell ALL of them in his life, now. God, what he would have given to have this kind of familial bond over the past decade...

  
James was shaken from his thoughts by Clint dropping down next to him on the bench, starling him out of his revere. "Christ!" he gasped, looking at the unruly blond next to him. "Warn a guy before you attack, Clint."

  
"Jeeeezy Pete, did you two get attacked by a vacuum cleaner last night?!" Clint said by way of answer, poking at one of Steve's more prominent bruises for a moment before his eyes landed on the biggest mark left on James' throat. "Shit, I think you lost, Bucky."

  
The editor was not ashamed in admitting he'd picked out this shirt on purpose when he'd dressed. The gray t-shirt beneath his jacket had a low riding collar that showed exactly ALL of his bruises to the world. He didn't really know why he wanted to show them off. Usually people were embarrassed to have been marked so thoroughly. But he was proud of them. Proud, because it meant he'd taken a huge leap in himself and finally cracked the shell that had been keeping him prisoner for 10 years. And he wanted everyone to know that he, too, could have a heart.

  
Besides, Steve was doing a good job of being embarrassed for the both of them. The blond was currently burying his face in his hands, slapping Clint's finger away from his neck with a growl of "get offa me" and glaring at James over the other's shoulder. "You two really seem to find this funny, you know?"

  
"Oh C'mon Stevie, they're just hickeys." James teased him, stretching his legs out as he leaned his elbows against the picnic table top with a grin. He felt absolutely on top of the world now, soaking up the setting sun's rays against his skin as he pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes.

  
Steve glanced up at him and softened. James looked totally at peace with the world now... he really couldn't begrudge him for being happy. He, too, felt absolutely elated by the whole turn of events. His shoulders softened a tad, and he pushed Clint off of the bench to grab James by the collar and tug him closer. Pressing his lips to James', he grinned at the surprised sound it got him, driving closer to James as he kissed him with abandon.

  
"Whooaaa, you two have fun now, I'm gonna skedaddle before the clothes start flying!" Clint yelped, holding his hands up at the two of them and bolted from the table. Behind the couple, Sarah and Joe both laughed loudly, applauding the two of them for the display.

James pulled back from Steve's kiss, giving him a bewildered look before snorted indelicately. "Well that was just rude of you." He commented dryly, looking over to where Clint was babbling on to Bruce, the two casting them both glances over their beers and snickering.

  
"Eh, he had it coming. You're supposed to sit next to me anyway." Steve replied, leaning his elbow against the table to watch him. The two met their gazes for a long moment, still running high on the glee they'd felt the night before. After a few moments, Steve cleared his throat and shifted to stand. "I'm gonna go say Happy Birthday to Aunt Peggy. You coming?"

  
James opened his mouth to reply, when his phone buzzed again in his pocket. Reaching for it, he withdrew the device from its hold, staring at the number with a frown. It was the same number he'd seen on his phone that morning. But before he could answer it, it disconnected, then rang immediately after. The frown on his features deepened and he looked up at Steve. "Uhh.. Yeah. I'll be right there. I think work is calling me." he said, rising to his feet. His frown evaporated again as he leaned up to press a kiss to Steve's cheek. "Go say Happy Birthday to her, I'll be back in a few minutes."

  
Steve nodded and kissed him again, lingering for a moment before parting and making his way across the picnic grounds to Peggy's table. James watched him go as the phone went dead again in his fingers. "I'll be right back." he repeated to Steve's parents, waving at them both as he made his way across the grass in the opposite direction.

  
As he walked, the phone sprang to life for a third time, buzzing cheerfully in his palm. When he was a good distance away from the party, he answered, pressing the device to his ear. "James Barnes."

  
_"Jesus, took you long enough to answer."_ The voice on the other end stated, sounding annoyed at having been ignored for so long. James frowned at the voice. He had no idea who this was, but the person on the other end seemed to know him.

"Uhh.. I'm sorry who is this?"

  
The voice sighed over the line, annoyance melting into thorough irritation. _"Look, I know we only met once, but I like to think I'm a little more memorable than that."_ James raked his memories for a moment, trying to place the voice. It DID sound familiar. But before he could wager a guess, the voice continued. _"You know.. short, unfairly handsome... thinks you're a load of crap, Jimmy."_

  
His heart screeched to a halt in his chest at the words, and his memories replayed just two days prior. Now he recognized the voice for who it belonged to and he swallowed, his mouth suddenly gone dry. "... Tony?"

  
_"Bingo, give the man a cookie."_ Tony murmured. James could practically hear him rolling his eyes over the phone. _"Now that we've played Guess Who?, do yourself a favor and meet me at the stables. You and I need to have a little chit-chat... alone."_

  
Previously frozen in his chest, James could feel his heart ramping up to a nervous staccato in his throat and he nodded. Then he felt absolutely ridiculous. Of course Tony couldn't see him. "Uhm... OK. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

  
_"Take the forest path, you'll be here in five."_ Then the line went dead.

  
James stared at his phone, trying to will the panic away as he glanced over his shoulder at the party. Maybe Tony was just trying to scare him.. maybe this was the old "break his heart and I break your legs" speech all people gave to their friends' soon-to-be spouses. For a brief moment, he thought about going to get Steve... but then Tony had said to come alone.

  
He had five minutes. Stuffing his phone into his pocket, James pushed his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose and made for the trees, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone had spotted him making his way from the party. No one noticed him leaving. He inhaled slowly and stepped onto the path, walking amongst the trees as he tried to will the shivers to leave him. He wasn't cold. This was sheer nerves wracking his shoulders.

  
Almost ten minutes later, the editor emerged from the trees to see the stables ahead of him. Sure enough, in the distance he could make out Tony pacing in the field, his head ducked from the sun and looking irritated at being kept waiting. James steeled his shoulders and sighed, crossing the grassy field as he called to the other man.  "Tony!" Tony looked up from his pacing and the glare he sent James was enough to make his bones rattle. 

  
"About time you showed up." Tony groused at him, standing still in the middle of the field. He waited patiently for James to approach him, but his face belied no humor or sentiment towards him. In fact, he looked downright cold and pissed off.

  
James swallowed again, willing his palms to stop sweating from inside his jacket pockets and he nodded to him. "Sorry, I got a bit turned around on the path. I was just with Steve and his parents-"

  
"Cut the bullshit, Barnes." Tony interrupted, his eyes boring into him as he gave the editor a once over. When his eyes landed on the bruises at his throat, he rolled his eyes and scoffed. "That's disgusting.. you went that far. I can't believe Steve even fell for it..."

  
James bristled at the insult and his jaw tensed, fighting the urge to reach out and slap him. "Look I don't know what I did to piss you off, but you really don't have to speak to me that way."

  
"Yeah, I do. I hold all authority to be a dick to someone who has the balls to lie to an entire town." Tony shot back, his eyes twinkling with victory. At the paling of James' skin, he smiled. "Yep. Knew it."

  
"I have no idea what you're talking about." James murmured, shaking his head and turning to leave Tony behind in the field. "Whatever you're trying to pull to get me to leave Steve, you're not gonna win. I'm heading back to the party."

  
As he turned, however, Tony raised his voice, his words cutting through James like a hot knife. "Yasha Barnes. Born March 10th, 1987 at City Hospital no. 40 in St. Petersburg.. Oh here's the fun part... not St. Petersburg, Florida." He paused for dramatic effect. "St. Petersburg, Russia." Tony rattled off, looking down at the papers he'd had hidden in his coat pocket. He looked up at James, watching the man turn painfully slow and stare at him in horror. Tony's face broke into a victorious smile. "Parents: George and Winifred Barnes, deceased. Yasha Barnes, according to this here document.. never left the country."

  
James stared at Tony, his heart hammering in his chest. No. How had he found out. "What.. how.."

  
"You don't have to look so amazed, Yasha. I'm pretty good at what I do. Granted, these documents were a bitch to translate to English. But give me some credit here, this shit's pretty good." Tony smiled, holding the papers up to him. It was a copy of James' previous public records, and the picture at the top.. yeah, there was no denying it was him. "So... we gonna start talking?"

  
James glanced up at Tony, feeling his face going numb with anxiety. "I... I immigrated here..."He desperately tried to save face and lie his way through this again, knowing that if he cracked now, his cover would be blown to the entire town. Maybe he could make this work...

  
"Oh come on, are you SERIOUSLY going to try and lie to my face, AGAIN, Yasha?" Tony snorted, folding the documents back up and stuffing them into his pocket. "You're more desperate than I thought. And the worst part about it, is you got STEVE of all people to go along with the ruse. Steve... sweet, innocent, honest-faced Steve Rogers... trying to help an illegal immigrant get a free ride into the country. What would his mom and dad think?"

  
The two stared at each other for a moment, a stalemate to see who would crack first. But James' nerves were shot and he blurted out again, hoping beyond hope that he'd get out of this situation. "It's not a lie. I did immigrate here. And Steve and I are an actual couple. Why would I lie about that?"

  
Tony stared at him long and hard before his resolve cracked and he stared at the ground. "You're fucking pathetic. I can't believe you'd keep lying when evidence is right here in your face. I didn't want to have to pull out the big guns.. but it's for Steve's good." Pulling his own phone out of his pocket, Tony tapped on the screen a few seconds before holding the device out to James. It wasn't a picture, nor a video... it was an audio recording. And the words that echoed from the tiny speaker made James want to vomit right there on the ground.

  
**_"... of course, you go and throw the jealous boyfriend drivel at me like you're allowed to. What the hell is wrong with you! IT'S. A. DANCE."_ **

  
**_"Ask about a dozen people that just saw that, and they'll agree with me, you two were practically fucking on the dance floor. I don't care about what the style is like, Buck! You're not supposed to be grinding on another girl while you're here with me, even if she is just a friend!"_ **

  
**_"And exactly WHY am I not allowed to do that with another girl, when you and I aren't even DATING. Or did you forget that this whole engagement thing is fucking crap!"_ **

  
**_"Say that again."_ **

  
**_"It's. Crap. It's crap because you WANTED it to be crap! You said so before we even flew all the way up here! Don't tell me you're gonna get all jealous of me dancing with Natasha, when I saw you and Sharon giggling and laughing over God knows what. Keep this in mind: Once this weekend is over, we "break up" again and you get to return to your happy little fucking life, and you and Sharon can have as many super model babies as you two want! Once this weekend is over, the show is done and I return to New York, ALONE. You still have family and friends and a girl that's pining over you like a puppy dog. She wants you back, Steve, so remember that. Once this whole fucking lie is through, YOU STILL HAVE THE POTENTIAL FOR A HAPPY LIFE WITH SOMEONE TO LOVE. I don't! I had one weekend of feeling somewhat normal, one dance with someone who shared that passion with me before I have to go back and pretend I don't enjoy it. I get to go back to my cold, lonely ass apartment surrounded by manuscripts and I do my thing, day in and day out with nothing to look forward to but another summer working 7 days a week because I have no friends and Christmas alone with a bottle of Jack, wishing I could see my parents one more time! You have everything! I literally have my JOB left Steve. So NO. YOU DON'T GET TO BE JEALOUS OF ME."_ **

  
The words stung as badly as they had the night before, and James felt himself stumbling in his spot. His own voice cut out of the speaker like needles to flesh and he swallowed, looking up at Tony with wide, scared eyes. "How did you..."

  
"That dock house you two were fighting at? I own it. Lucky for me, I happened to be there, enjoying a few drinks by myself, the moment you two showed up and started bickering. I had my suspicions about the legitimacy of your relationship together, but this was the last straw before I could reveal the truth to everyone. That little tidbit you put out there about your parents, that was really the last thing I needed to find your public records back in the Motherland." He paused, looking far too smug as he spoke. "I hate to do it to Steve, but you...? I don't give a shit what it does to your reputation, or what happens to you when the others find out. Ship back to Russia, get arrested, I don't care. I have no sympathy for people who try to rip off the government like that."

  
Tony met James' gaze for a moment before stepping up to him and throwing an arm around his shoulders and giving him an overly friendly shake. "Don't look so glum, Yasha. You still have a chance to do right by Stevie. Come out and tell the truth to the town, clear Steve's name.. you're a big man who thinks he can trick an entire country into housing him. Be a big man now and stand up for what you did. I've known Steve for years and it's boggling my mind that he'd even agree to do something like this to help you. After two years of abuse, WHY oh why would he agree to help you get a free ride into Ye Old America? What did you offer him? Money, riches, fame? Did you two fuck around in the office before you two came up here, or was this a recent development?"

"Go fuck yourself." James hissed, shoving Tony's arm off of his shoulders and glaring at him. There was no point in trying to lie to him anymore, he had all the evidence he needed to oust him to the town right there on the spot. "Why are you doing this?"

  
"Because Steve, despite hating my guts for some reason, is still my friend and I don't want to see him go to jail for YOUR crime."

  
"Steve and I are getting married. He's not going to jail." James snapped at him, backing away a few paces. "He's not going to jail because I won't let him."

  
"Oh because you're the epitome of concern for another human being, right? I did my own research while you were off pretending to be boyfriends. Apparently everyone at your office fucking HATES you. You're vile, cold and willing to throw anyone under the bus to get ahead." Tony threw his arms out to the sides and beamed at him. "You're backed into a corner, Comrade. Gonna try and fight me on it?"

  
"Yeah, punching you in the face is looking like a pretty good option right now." James seethed. His anger had no heat behind it, however. His fears were coming to fruition right before his eyes, and Tony was on the warpath to right what he'd done. He was dead in the water. James could feel the corners of his eyes stinging now as he stared at Tony, trying to get his emotions under control. "What are you gonna do...?"

  
Tony shrugged his shoulders at him and glanced at his watch. "Wait for you to make the right decision. Because if you don't, that anonymous tip that was called in to the New York Immigration office about an hour ago is gonna come to light and you're gonna watch Steve get dragged off in handcuffs to the clink while you get booted from the country with everyone watching you, knowing that this was all your fault." Tony glanced up at James, satisfied by the look on his features. "I know you're gonna make the right decision, because you're right.. you're not gonna let him go to jail. You're gonna call the office, right now, and admit everything to them. Then when you're being deported you can leave the country, knowing that that poor man you bullied into helping you is gonna go free for a crime he didn't want to commit. Understand me?"

  
James gawked at him, his heart racing in his chest hard enough to burst. " You called them... you son of a bitch."

  
Tony laughed, looking down at himself. "Actually, I'm told my mother is very sweet." Holding his phone out to James again, Tony waited, his eyes beaming slightly. "So... time to man up, Yasha. What's gonna happen now is you're gonna call them, with me watching so I know it happened... After that, whenever you feel is the right time, you're gonna tell everyone the truth, the WHOLE truth, and clear Steve's name. Then you're gonna get deported." Tony paused, that same sickly sweet smile plastered across his features. "Tick tock, times a-wasting. The longer you wait, the closer Steve is gonna get to being sent to jail. I don't know men with twice the amount of evil in them that would let an innocent man like Steve go to prison. He'd never survive. You know that, and I know that."

  
The phone sat before him like an ax, ready to drop and ruin everything he'd worked for this entire weekend. James' breath hitched in his throat as he realized he had absolutely no way out of this. The tip called in was turning the clock faster and faster, and if he didn't act now, Steve was going to get the worst of the fallout. All because he'd been too selfish to think of anyone but himself. The stinging in his eyes burned hotter and hotter and he didn't fight the tear that ran down his cheeks. He couldn't hurt Steve. Not after everything they'd been through together. He couldn't watch him go to jail, knowing it was his fault and unable to do anything about it.

  
At least he had a chance to do right by him now.

  
Fear spiked through his limbs, making him quake in his spot as he stared at the phone, pointedly not meeting Tony's gaze. His chest constricted painfully as he realized Yasha had done it again... Yasha had fucked up, and someone who didn't deserve it, was going to get seriously hurt in the end. Someone he genuinely cared for. The ghost of Steve's last kiss burned on his lips and he bit them, trying desperately to keep himself from breaking down in front of Tony. But it was no use. The tears were flowing openly now, and he inhaled, looking away from the other man. Just when he thought he'd finally had something good in his life... Every other horrible consequence of his entire existence had been executed by someone or something else. This time he had to be the one to break his own heart and let go of the last good thing he'd found in the world.

  
Tony stared at him, the phone outstretched in his palm. But his features softened a bit as he watched James war with himself. That look... it really was of someone who was watching his life flash before his eyes. But if Tony was anything, it was a proud man, and he wasn't about to let tears sway him from his actions. "Yasha... time to choose."

  
Silence fell between them again, and he hesitated, genuinely terrified of what was to come. But as he stood there, his phone sprang to life in his pocket, and he looked down at it. Steve's number was flickering on the screen, accompanied by his picture. That smiling, happy face he'd taken from Steve's company portrait stood out on the screen, mocking his misery with the cheer that was radiating off of his face. That smiling face James knew would be forever squashed if he went to jail, knowing that James had failed him. Everyone was going to hate him... everything he'd gone through that weekend was for nothing...

  
But Tony was right. James wasn't going to let Steve go to jail for him. If there was one last thing he could do right by him, it was this. With a hitch in his breath and his tears rolling freely down his face, James made his decision. He was letting Steve go free.

  
"... give me the phone." He murmured, his voice wavering in his chest as he looked up at Tony. He met his gaze defiantly despite the sorrow painted across his damp features, reaching up to swipe his fingertips over his cheeks to clear them of the salty residue.

  
Tony watched him, his face melting into resolve as he nodded. "Smart man." he murmured. Pulling up the number he'd called an hour prior, he queued up the call and hit "Send", handing the phone to James. Then he waited.

  
James took the phone from him and pressed it to his ear, feeling his entire body vibrating with fear as he listened to the ringing on the other end. After a moment, the line connected, and he recognized Mr. Coulson's voice on the other end.

  
_"Coulson, speaking."_

  
James hesitated, staring at Tony for a moment before he cleared his throat and leveled himself for his own suicide. "Mr. Coulson.... It's James Barnes. I've... I'm... I'm calling to turn myself in. There is no wedding... I lied." he said, feeling like his chest had caved in as his own words left him.

  
Coulson hesitated on the other end, the static crackling between them. _"You're turning yourself in... So, I was right. The engagement to Mr. Rogers is a hoax."_

  
"Yes, sir. I wanted... I wanted to call you and tell you... I'm willingly giving myself up. I can't keep up the lie anymore." God, he wanted to crawl into the earth and die. This was it. All the love he'd felt for Steve was withering away to nothing.. all the affection, the friendliness, the sense of belonging someplace for once in this whole, wretched world... it was ebbing away with each word he spoke.

  
_"I see. I'll have an agent come up and escort you back to New York to gather your things. As for Steve..."_

  
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Steve doesn't deserve the punishment you say he does. He didn't want to do this... I blackmailed him into going along with the lie. He's not at fault, sir, and I know.. I know for a fact that he doesn't deserve to go to prison."  
  


_"I don't think you have the right to make demands at a time like this, son..."_

  
"Please!" James cried, looking up at Tony as he spoke. "Please... I'm begging you. Steve is innocent. I'm the one that orchestrated this whole thing. I'm making you a deal. I will go willingly, and without fight, if you give Steve amnesty for this whole thing. He's an innocent man. He didn't agree to this."

  
Coulson listened to him, static filling the air again. Just when James thought that his pleas would go unheard, Coulson sighed and papers could be heard rustling in the background. _"Very well. According to the United States Government, Steve Rogers had no part in this whole affair. He is a free man. As for you... an agent will be sent up tomorrow morning to fetch you. Once he has, you have 24 hours to get out of the country and back to Russia. For good."_

  
James swallowed, feeling the bile coming up his throat as he stared at the grass beneath his feet. "Yes sir..."

  
The phone call ended. James kept his eyes locked on the ground beneath him as he silently handed the phone back to Tony, his fingers trembling as he tried fiercely to keep his sobs from breaking free. Everything was gone. His last chance at happiness, dead with a single phone call. He had nothing left. He wouldn't give Tony the satisfaction of seeing him break.

  
"You're a brave man, Yasha." Tony murmured, pocketing his phone as he watched him. "So... shall we go and tell the others the truth now?"

  
"No." James said vehemently, looking up at him with red, watery eyes. "No. Don't do this on Aunt Peggy's birthday. I'll... I'll tell everyone tomorrow morning when they come to get me. Just let her have her day... please."

  
Tony didn't respond. He simply read the words on James' face and he shook his head. "And the Grinch's heart grew three sizes that weekend. Steve really can work miracles on a person. I almost believe that you give a shit about someone else for once in your life, Barnes. Congratulations." Tony shoved past James, letting his shoulder knock into his as he passed him. Without looking back at him, Tony called over his shoulder. "Enjoy your last day in America, Yasha. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow for your trial."

  
James didn't look back at him. He bit his lip, feeling his resolve dwindling as Tony left him behind. As he heard the footsteps fading away, he clasped his hands over his face and shuddered, feeling weak at the knees. His stomach was rolling dangerously now, and he knew he was going to be sick.

  
Stumbling forward, he caught his hand on the side of the stables and he heaved, the contents of his stomach spilling onto the ground as he vomited the food and bile burning in the pit of his gut. The acid burned his nose and mouth and he coughed, his entire body shivering with the despair and the sickness that had overtaken him. Everything was over... his last shred of happiness was gone, taken from him once again and he sobbed, his hand clutching to his aching belly as he let himself cry. He felt more broken than he had in a long time, since the passing of his parents, and this time it had been by his own hand.

  
Spitting the last of the flavor out of his mouth, James wiped the back of his hand over his lips and staggered away from the stables, trying to wrap his mind around everything that happened. He wandered... it didn't matter where. He just couldn't go back to the party. He couldn't look at anyone, least of all Steve.

  
Oh God... Steve...

  
Lost in his own despair, James trekked from the fields towards the distant landscape of the mountains, wanting to be as far from the town as possible. He felt like running away. Maybe he could...

  
But no. That had been his mistake from the beginning. He'd run away from his problems when he left Russia illegally in the first place. And all of this had happened. He'd hurt the one man he'd grown to love against the odds in his entire life. He'd hurt an entire town of people that didn't deserve it. He hurt himself, and had no one to blame but his own idiocy.

  
By the time he realized what he was doing, he was on an overlook, staring down at the town below him. It looked so quiet, so peaceful. He could feel the sun beating down on the back of his neck, what should have been warm and inviting now scorching hot and offending. He felt his hands shaking at his sides as another well of emotion bubbled up his chest. This time, it was anger. Anger for everything that had happened to him in his time.

  
It took him a split second to realize he was screaming. Screaming at the skies above him, his fury unleashed to the cloudless atmosphere as he dropped to his knees and shouted at God. "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!" He shrieked at the heavens, his face red and contorted in his misery. "WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU?! WHAT DID I EVER DO IN MY LIFE TO DESERVE THIS? EVERYONE SAYS YOU CARE.. YOU FUCKING DON'T. FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU AND EVERYTHING EVERYONE SAYS IS GOOD ABOUT YOU. YOU DON'T CARE. YOU! DON'T! CARE!"

  
He fell forward on his hands, and his palm caught a sharp rock, the jagged edge slicing into the skin. He screamed again, throwing the rock as hard as he could over the edge of the cliff, and for a brief moment he thought about following it's descent. But he was too much of a coward to do so. Death scared him, pain scared him. And here he was, feeling like he was dying inside as he sobbed openly, feeling his heart withering away to a black coal inside his chest. What difference did this whole fucking weekend make? None. Steve had wanted to save him. There was no saving the damned, it seemed.

  
He sobbed openly for a long time, his voice hitching and rasping in his chest, too painful to draw breath. It took him far too long to control himself again, not that he really wanted to. But all too soon, exhaustion crept up on him and he collapsed to his side, curled up in the grass as he stared out over the water far below him. He panted, his cheeks sticky with tears as he let nature envelope him. The mountains really were beautiful...

  
James didn't know how long he lay like that, staring out at the beauty of this country around him, soaking it up for the last time. His sobs had ended, but he felt hollow, empty, and couldn't really bring the strength to lift his head from the grass. His cut palm throbbed painfully, but he didn't care.. didn't pay attention to the red welling copiously up over his skin and spilling out onto the grass in front of him. Oddly enough, the tangy scent of copper soothed him the most as he let his glazed eyes take in Alaska for a final time.

  
His phone rang in his pocket again and for a brief moment, he thought about ignoring it. But something in him had the editor pulling his phone from his pocket, blood smearing across the screen as he saw Steve's number flashing again, accompanied with 17 missed call notifications. He'd been so out of it, he hadn't even heard his phone ringing for the past however many minutes.

  
Tiredly, he swiped his finger over the glass and brought the phone to his ear, feeling tacky blood touching his cheek as he spoke roughly. "Hi..."

  
_"Bucky, where the HELL are you?!"_ Steve's voice sprang up over the speaker, making James' heart clench weakly in his chest. He sounded so worried... _"You've been gone for almost 2 hours. Everyone's looking for you, are you alright?!"_

  
James didn't answer him for a moment. A soft breeze kicked up over the field he was in, making the grass beneath his head tickle his cheek. After a sharp inhale, he spoke again. "I'm sorry, Steve. I'm alright. Tell everyone to stop looking for me.. I'm alright, I promise. I just.. I had to take a call from work and wandered while I was talking. I got lost."

  
Steve didn't sound convinced. He spoke again, his voice deadly serious. _"Why do you sound like you've been crying? Where are you? I'm coming to get you."_

  
"Steve, I swear I'm OK. I can see the town from where I'm at." He said, biting his lip as he felt tears welling up in his eyes again. He breathed slowly, trying to get the tremors in his voice to settle down. "I... I threw up, that's why I sound like this. I guess the picnic food didn't sit right with me." It wasn't technically a lie, no.. but dammit, James hated the fact that he had to go and lie to Steve of all people. But to keep him safe for now, he did. Just until tomorrow morning...

  
_"Jesus, you threw up? Are you sick? Where are you?!"_

  
"Steve, please. I'm OK. Just... go back to the party, I'm gonna head back to the house and lay down. I'll be fine after awhile."

  
Steve hesitated on the line again, before he grunted. _"No. I'll meet you there. The party is starting to wind down anyway. Everyone else is just going back to the Roadhouse for drinks. I don't need to go with them, I need to be with you."_

  
Goddammit. James squeezed his eyes shut as he listened to this perfect man. He cared so much.. why the FUCK did he have to give it all up now? God really did hate him... But he nodded and agreed with Steve, apologizing to him that he was making him miss out on spending the evening with his friends.

  
_"Hey, don't worry about it. We have all day tomorrow before we fly out. We'll get a chance to say goodbye."_ Steve reassured him, a smile dancing over his voice as he spoke. _"I'll meet you at the house, alright? Just don't get lost again."_

  
"I won't..." James murmured, finding no strength in him to get up. He paused, his breath ghosting over the receiver before he spoke again. This time, he couldn't hide the cracks in his voice. "Steve... I love you..."

  
_"I love you too, Bucky.."_ Steve replied, sounding suspicious again. _"Bucky... what's really going on?"_ Damn him for being so perceptive.

  
James sighed, sitting up in the grass as he felt the red drips running down his wrist into his sleeve. "Nothing, Steve. I just... I just love you. I'll be home soon." Home... how right he was at that very moment.

  
_"Alright, I'll see you in a little bit."_ Steve murmured, his voice sounding a little thick over the tin of the phone's speaker. " _Be safe."_

  
"I will... bye Stevie." James murmured, hanging up the phone before Steve could get another word in edgewise. He stared out over the bay of the town, his cheeks flushing against the fresh tears that coursed down his cheeks. He had to get a grip on himself. He had twenty minutes before he had to face Steve again.

  
Twenty short minutes to go back to pretending he wasn't Yasha, a scared kid that lied his way through life to feel strong. He had to be James all over again, if only for one more day... 

 

* * *

 James' outfit. (edit 4/17: sorry boo bears I didnt realize the link to james' outfit was broken. Enjoy!)

 

And Tony's smug ass face. "I know you're lying and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it"

 (btw do you have ANY IDEA how hard it is to find pictures of RDJ at the proper age he is in this story, WITH THE GOATEE? Good god, he was ALWAYS clean shaven when he was younger.)

 

And now for the obligatory crying gifs because i haven't broken your hearts enough:

  

This is what it's like to watch a man lose the last shred of hope he had left in him.

Chapter 11 coming soon, and it's not going to be much better. Sorry :'( 

 


	11. The Last Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James puts on a brave face to muscle through his last evening with Steve, and the two fall into bed blissful and marking each other for a lifetime of separation. Steve has no idea what has transpired in James' day, and James intends to make the most of his last night with Steve before he loses him for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a teensy little bit shorter than the other ones, simply for continuity's sake. I didn't have much else to say in this other than James using what little time he has left to remember Steve in a lifetime of loneliness ahead of him.
> 
> Plus i was hit with a small bout of stomach bug over the weekend, so I'm so sorry it took me so long to get the next chapter up. I hope it still sounds ok after all that wait :(
> 
> NSFW GIFS AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER (aka, I found porn lol)

"James, you poor child." Sarah chuckled, holding the roll of gauze in her fingers as she observed his displayed palm. "We're going to have to wrap you in bubble wrap from now on, if we want to keep you around." Giving the brunet a loving smile, Sarah set the roll of gauze down on the counter and ran his palm under the spray of the kitchen sink, washing the blood away to examine the cut. It wasn't particularly deep, but the rock had cut a long groove into his palm, shallowly displaying the meat of his hand. Tisking slightly, the nurse in her went to work. "It won't need stitches, but keep it wrapped up. I'll pick you up an antibiotic from the pharmacy before the two of you leave tomorrow. You'll be fine."

  
Stretching out about a couple feet of the gauze, she twisted it around his open hand a few times, tucking the end into the folds of the wrap and giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. "There you are, all set. Now, Steve told me you were feeling sick earlier, so I've mixed you up something to drink. You'll feel better in no time." Standing from her chair, she made her way to the fridge and produced a glass filled with a murky green fluid. "Drink this, it'll help settle your stomach."

  
James felt a little guilty as she tended to him so thoroughly. His earlier ills really only stemmed from his own anxieties, but he didn't dare turn down her help. The last thing he needed was to stir up any suspicions of what was really going on. So he took the glass from her, giving the woman a small smile. He took a sip, and immediately grimaced at the chalky, minty flavor. "Ugh.. What is it?" he asked, though he politely continued to sip the drink in his hand. At his left, Steve watched the two of them, his hip propped up against the counter as he smiled lovingly at his boss, grateful that his mother was so attentive to his needs.

  
"It's a cocktail of Mylanta, lidocaine and Donnatal. It's more an anesthetic to help with any cramping. I know it's not the best tasting thing, but it's good in a pinch." Sarah laughed. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his forehead to feel for any fever. James felt his throat clench at the tender gesture, wishing beyond all reason that he could have this forever. Sadly, after the stellar job Tony had done, that was simply not to be. He didn't really know how he was supposed to face everyone tomorrow, and the nerves that caused him pain earlier began to gnaw away at his insides again. But for the sake of Steve and Sarah's last night seeing him, he'd save face, just for a little while longer.

  
"Thank you. It's... thank you." he murmured, finishing off the drink with a shudder and handing her the glass back. He felt like he needed to wash his mouth out, but surprisingly enough, the liquid in his stomach began to relax his muscles and he found himself breathing a little easier. "It really does help." James said, sounding as surprised as he felt.

  
"That's what I went to school for, darling." Sarah smiled, reaching up and patting his cheek. "You two should go pack up your bags for tomorrow and head to bed. I want to spend as much time with you two before you fly out as I possibly can." The blond woman murmured, her eyes shining in the kitchen lights before she sniffed and turned away. "I'm sorry. Just... thank you both for coming this weekend. You have no idea how much it meant to Aunt Peggy. She loved you, James, and she's looking forward to coming to the wedding. We all are."

  
James swallowed, looking back at Steve before he felt his shoulders quake a bit. "Thank you for having me. It's been.. probably the best weekend I've had in a very long time. I'd... I'd love to come back and see you all again."

  
"And we wouldn't have it any other way!" Sarah said, shaking his arm a bit before grinning and gesturing to his jacket. "Let me take your jacket and get the blood out of the sleeve. I have a few tricks that will help get the stain out and make that coat as good as new."

  
James nodded, shrugging out of the jacket and handing it to her. "Thank you.. I'd better go pack."

  
"I'll grab the last of the clothes from the washer." Steve piped up, nodding to the laundry room. "I'll meet you in the bedroom, alright?"

  
"Alright, Stevie."

  
"James, before you go." Sarah said, grabbing his elbow and looking up at him. "Can I speak to you for a moment?"

  
James dropped his gaze from Steve and looked at her, his eyes widening a little. Oh Jesus, now did SHE know? His nerves were rattled thoroughly by the whole day and immediately his stomach clenched again at her words. "Sure... no problem." Silently, he allowed the woman to pull him to the hallway, away from the laundry room. When they were alone, the blond turned her attention back to James and offered him a watery smile.

  
"I wanted to say Thank you, personally... for Steve."

  
James listened, glancing over his shoulder towards the laundry room for a moment before he frowned. "For Steve?" He asked for clarification, his brow raising a little. This definitely wasn't going in the direction he was anticipating, but... he wasn't going to complain if it meant he didn't have to face his demons that very moment.

  
"Yes. I just.. I wanted to thank you for making him so happy. It's been years since I've seen him truly content. Ever since he came out to us in college... well, Steve hadn't been 100% himself since. We accepted his proclivities wholeheartedly, but there was something about his revelation that just never settled. We had no idea what it was for the longest time. Then when we met you, Joe and I both realized what it was that had been missing from Steve's life."

  
James listened, his face falling into confusion. He had no idea what she was going on about, but he waited patiently for Sarah to elaborate.

  
Sarah smiled, her eyes welling with tears again before she pulled James into a tight hug, her hands rubbing up and down his spine. "He found his match. Coming out was a big step for him, but.. none of the men he'd seen since then were ever really compatible with him. But you... you're his everything. We see it every time he looks at you. And after everything you've told us, Peggy and I both agreed, you two are a match made in the eyes of God. I-" she swallowed, her grip tightening around his back. "I've said this once before. You're family now and we wouldn't have it any other way. You both are going to be so beautiful on your wedding day. Thank you... thank you so much for making my son's life complete."

  
What should have been comforting and praising words felt like a death sentence. James stared at the far wall, regretting everything, every choice he'd made in his life that led up to this moment. Not that he regretted meeting Steve and falling in love with him, hell no. He just wished that it had been under different circumstances.

  
Then again, had he not made the choices he had, he never would have wound up in New York when he did, working at the publishing office at the same time Steve had, and fallen into a downward spiral of circumstances that lead to this very weekend, and he never would have known what it was like to truly be in love, no matter how briefly. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't it seemed...

  
He nodded slowly, looking down at her as a weak smile crossed his lips. "I'm glad I met him when I did, Sarah. I'm glad I met all of you, when I did..." The words felt like razors of lies across his tongue, but his heart knew it to be true. He would never trade this weekend away for anything if he could help it, even if he was getting dragged off in cuffs in the morning.

  
From behind them, a throat cleared and they both looked up to see Steve watching them, a laundry basket balanced on his hip. "Laundry's done. We should be getting ready for bed." Steve murmured, smiling wistfully. He made his way over to the two of them and wrapped his free arm around James' waist, tugging him closer.

  
James went willingly into Steve's side, pressing up to the warm wall of flesh before casting Sarah a gentle smile. The three of them then bid each other a good evening and went their separate ways. Following Steve into the bedroom, James closed and locked the door, looking over to where Steve was dumping the clothes onto the bed, sorting them by who they belonged to. "I'm sorry I missed the last part of the party. I hope I didn't stir up too much of a fuss?"

  
"Nah. We figured, after I got a hold of you, that it was just a rather.. unconventional scavenger hunt. I won by the way." Steve quipped, looking back at James before winking.

  
"Hmm. Well congratulations then. What's the prize?" James asked, making his way over. He loathed the fact that he had to play it so goddamn cool around Steve now, when inside he felt like he was dying. But the smile came naturally to his lips, the quirk of an eyebrow and a hand reaching out to cup the small of Steve's back. James leaned in and pressed a kiss to Steve's jaw, letting his breath linger across his skin for a moment before he pulled back and rested his forehead against the blond's.

  
Steve relaxed, letting James cosy up to him before he wrapped his own arm around his waist, pulling him flush to his front. He dropped the unkempt jeans onto the bedding and placed his free hand on James' hip, the two of them curled into each other as they pressed lazy kisses to lips, noses bumping and chuckles leaving them. "Well, I think I got a consolation gift out of it. Still looking forward to the Grand Prize, though."

  
"Oooh, so naughty." James teased him, grinning at the blond before delving in for a deeper kiss. He felt strong hands pull him flush and he laughed, looking down at the clothing offending the bed next to them. "We should probably be responsible first and actually pack before we get ahead of ourselves."

  
Steve laughed again but nodded, pulling back to return his attention to the suitcase and duffel bag before them. The two men stood side by side in comfortable silence, folding and stuffing their clothes away one by one. Every so often, James would lean in and press a kiss to Steve's bicep, or Steve would take a moment to bump his hip against the shorter man's, jarring him back an inch before the action would get retaliated. After a good 20 minutes, the clothes were folded and put away, leaving them nothing to do but head to sleep.

  
James did not plan on doing that at all.

  
Instead, he turned his attention back to Steve, throwing his arms around his neck and pulling him into a deep kiss. His tongue plundered the other's mouth, claiming every last inch of flesh inside with a desperation rivaling the night before. He heard Steve make a surprised sound in the back of his throat, but ignored it in favor of taking the advantage and steering Steve to the bed to sit. When he had the back of the blond's knees pressed to the bed, he pushed, making Steve sit down heavily onto the mattress. He wasted no time in climbing onto his lap, straddling his thighs as he dove back in, nipping his lower lip as he carded and gripped the blond locks in his fingers.

  
"Whoa, slow down." Steve chuckled, looking up at him with a concern masked by his smile. "You're awfully clingy today, what happened?"

  
James shook his head, looking down at him before kissing the tip of Steve's nose. "Just thinking about the future..." He murmured, his blue eyes scanning the other's for a moment. He tried to read if the other had any inkling of what was to come for him, but there was nothing.

  
"Hey." Steve said, gripping James' wrist and giving him a good, hard look. "If you're concerned that this weekend is going to end and nothing is going to change between us, just put those thoughts away. I told you last night I fully intend on dating you after we're married, and I'm not backing out now."

  
"But what if you date me and you find out I have horrible habits? Or, like... kick you in my sleep, or hog the television for Maury?"

  
Steve laughed, shaking his head. "Well then, those are just major deal breakers and we should reconsider." He joked, shaking his head. "Bucky... listen to me. I mean it. I want to get to know you better and finish falling in love with you. If it makes you feel better, we'll make sure to plan for a proper wedding in the future. Let's just get the courthouse wedding over with and then we'll have plenty of time to do this right. First steps, first."

  
James watched him, soaking up his words before shaking his head. "How the hell did I get so lucky?" He murmured, gazing into his eyes and losing himself for a moment.

  
"I think it's your turn." Steve murmured, after a brief hesitation. He waited for James to respond, but when none came, he continued. "I think it's your turn to finally have a piece of happiness in your life. Besides, I'm the lucky one here."

  
The editor snorted derisively. "Pray tell, how are you the lucky one? I'm the one that verbally abused you for two years and blackmailed you into marrying me." He had no idea where Steve got the idea that he could possibly have lucked out in his catch. To James, if he'd been coerced into something like this, he'd personally would have held the door open for Lady Liberty's front stoop and kicked the asshole out...

  
"Because I got to meet someone who needed so much more than the world was giving him, and he turned out to be more amazing than anyone I've ever met in my life." Steve answered, his words confident as he reached up. Cupping the side of James' neck, he watched him for a moment before his smile faltered. "Something's really bothering you. If it wasn't, you wouldn't be questioning me. What is it?" He pried, his fingers tightening around James' hip for a moment. "You have to be honest with me."

  
James didn't know how to answer. 'Woops, sorry I lied to you, Tony found out about our little trick and I'm getting arrested and thrown out of the country tomorrow, my bad.' How was that supposed to sound to someone who just realized he was in love with a man who was on the out for good. He didn't want to break Steve's heart anymore than it was already going to be. Instead, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Steve's again, silencing his words before shushing him. "Shh... let's not think about it right now. It'll be fine..." he added, swallowing thickly as he lied through his teeth. "I promise, everything.. is fine..."

  
Steve's gaze was still suspicious, but he conceded to his words and nodded. Letting his hands glide over the planes of James' back, he pulled him closer and trailed kisses up and down James' throat, trying to soothe the obvious anxiety out of his partner. When he reached the brunet's collarbone, he planted a soft kiss over a bruise and nipped the skin, earning himself a sharp gasp from James. That bolstered Steve's intentions as he let a sly chuckle leave him, worrying the skin between his teeth before he let go and winked up at him. "Still tender, huh?"

  
"Uh huh.." James muttered, his eyes sliding shut with the growing arousal burning like a warm coal in the pit of his stomach. "Yeah.. don't stop." HIs words were meant to control, to sound hungry and commanding... they came out needy, a whimper on his breath and a moan in the pit of his throat, tightening his plea into a whine. His hips undulated down to the lap he sat in, feeling the hardness of want between them pressing up against each other through layers of denim.

  
Steve let his smile fall and a feral desire flood up his features, darkening his eyes. HIs pupils blew wide, consuming the ring of blue until his eyes were as black as pitch. A soft pant left him as he leaned in, biting at his throat a little before he rocked his hips up against him, drawing out a loud moan from James at his action. Instantly, his hands went up under James' shirt, pushing the grey cloth up and up until the clothing crawled its way to his shoulders, baring his skin to the cool room behind them. He let his fingers ghost over the smooth skin, soaking up his warmth as he mouthed at the abused flesh of his neck. "Whatever you say, baby..."

  
He was slowly losing his mind. James pushed back the cry bubbling up his throat, wanting to escape him and scream that this wasn't right. Why the hell should he have to lose this? A wild thought crossed his mind as he briefy considered asking Steve to run away from here. But then, what kind of man would he be if he took him away from his family, his happy life? He was already a monster for what he was doing. The darkest levels of moral hell waited for him already. He didn't need to condemn himself further.  
Instead, he let his head fall forward and squashed the words in his mind. Instead, he let himself lose everything for one more night. James let his own hands trail down Steve's shoulders, to his arms and then his waist, tugging the blond's shirt up. With a swift movement, he divested the shirt to the floor, letting his fingertips dance like spiders over Steve's stomach, his chest, and then collarbones, finding the spot that made Steve cry the night before. He let his fingers twirl over the sensitive spot, feeling Steve shuddering beneath him. A quiet victory consumed him as he smiled, pulling the blond into a biting kiss that grew only more heated with each passing moment.

  
Touches grew more frantic, hands gripping sides until fingertips left faint bruises on skin, drawing the other closer and closer into each other. The evidence of their lust tented the fronts of their pants, lining up like they were made to be together, and quite suddenly there was just too much clothing between them. James crawled off of Steve's lap and unclasped the button on his jeans, shoving his pants down his legs until he was bared completely to the blond, cock standing at attention and growing redder by the moment. He breathed heavily, staring at his lover with a burning want, passion crawling through his veins and slowing his senses down like mud. James dropped to his knee in front of the still seated blond and attacked his jeans, plucking the button open with his thumb. He looked up at Steve and smiled, leaning in to grip the zipper between his teeth and give a slow and gentle tug. The zipper separated easily and he let his chin drag along the length of his cock, teasing him with the simple motion.

  
"Holy fuck, Bucky.." Steve groaned, leaning back against his palms to watch him. Eyes hooded and heavy, he breathed through his nose in slow, even breaths to try and get himself back into control. But James was just not having that. Instead, he finished the job, reaching up to release his straining member from the prison of his underwear. He relished the surprised sound Steve made as cool air touched his cock, soothing it from the burn he was feeling. "Shit!"

  
"Shh, babe." James murmured, wrapping his long fingers around his length and giving him a few strokes. He wrapped his lips around the head of his cock and gave it a lick. Hollowing his cheeks out around it, the pressure grew almost unbearable as he sucked, lowering his head in a painfully slow stroke. He eased as much pleasure into his dick as he could muster, the sensitive silky skin now wet and sensitized as he bobbed his head, up and down and again, until his cock was thoroughly covered in wetness. He rubbed his tongue against the nerve on the underside of his cock, pressing up against it until Steve jolted, grabbing the back of James' hair and gripping the dark locks almost painfully.

  
"Fuck! Bucky slow down or I'm gonna blow before I'm ready!" Steve gritted out, letting his head fall back to stare at the ceiling. He was breathing hard now, whimpering in the back of his throat. HIs fingers tightened and loosened in tandem to James' lips, the flush in his cheeks blooming down his neck and to his chest. "Holy shit.. slow down!"

  
James pulled off of him a few torturous moments later, licking his swollen lips tantalizingly as he continued to stroke him. "Бог ты так чертовски красиво (God you are so fucking beautiful)... " he murmured. Strokes slowed as he watched Steve's face melt into rapture, listening to James serenade him with the language of his heritage. "Вы понятия не имеете, как сильно я тебя люблю (You have no idea how much I love you)."

  
"Holy shit, that's not fucking fair." Steve whined, watching him stroke his cock. He couldn't handle the sight of it and squeezed his eyes shut, huffing loudly as he tried to still the trembling in his arms holding himself up. "Fuck, Bucky..."

  
James wasted no more time. Instead, he reached up and pushed Steve back, guiding him up the bed until he was stretched out on his back, he legs dangling off the edge of the bed until his toes barely grazed the wooden floor. Crawling up his body, he straddled Steve's waist again, looking down at him with heat burning in his own orbs. He lowered himself until their cocks brushed, silk against silk, and twin moans echoed into the room. James rocked on his lap, rutting up against the other. He planted his hands into the mattress and leaned over him, eyes boring into Steve's very soul as he rocked his hips, grinding him down into the mattress.

  
The heat between them was growing substantially, the two of them covered in a light sheen of sweat that cooled in the air and chilled them both. James grabbed Steve's wrists and planted his palms on his hips, letting Steve guide him as he wished. He leaned closer to him and pressed feather light kisses up and down the other's neck, ravishing the pillar of flesh to mark and claim him once again. The brunet wrapped his lips around an unblemished stretch of skin and bit down, marking him sharply before he spoke again. "Мне так жаль, что я должен оставить тебя (I'm so sorry that I have to leave you)."

  
Safe behind the language barrier, he could open up. Knowing that Steve wouldn't understand a word he said, he opened up his heart and spilled every pain to him, voicing his reality to the air in words that only he could understand. He felt safe doing it, knowing Steve would only believe it to be another praise when in reality the lament burned at his chest, making him feel carved out and useless. "Пожалуйста, прости меня. Пожалуйста, никогда не забывайте меня (Please forgive me. Please don't ever forget about me)."

  
Beneath him, Steve moaned again, letting his head fall into the bed beneath him as he felt James riding him. His fingers tightened on his hipbones, letting the sharp edges dig into his fingertips as he guided him. James felt amazing, rocking and rutting against him with every motion. Every word that poured out of his mouth was a symphony, coating his spirit in Russian and setting his heart on fire. Had he known what the words meant, he may have questioned him, stopped them.. but no. Steve mistook the pain in James' voice for passion, letting the words strike a fire in his flesh that could only be quenched one way. He reached up and gripped the back of James' neck, tugging him down into a kiss so powerful, it knocked the air out of both of them.

  
Now was not the time to stop. Now was the time to make the world right again, bring them as close to the precipice and and send them careening into the galaxies. Steve pulled back from the kiss and flipped them over, pushing James' front into the mattress and climbing down. He lay himself between the brunet's legs, staring at his ass as he reached up and spread his cheeks, baring his rose to him again. "Now it's my turn, Buck.." Steve growled. He dove in, kissing and lapping at his twitching muscle repeatedly, licking a long strip up his perenium and suckling the pucker before he prodded him with his tongue. He savored the musky sweet flavor of him, letting a whimper of his own contentment ebb out into the night. He couldn't help but reach down and shove his hand beneath himself, stroking his own cock in time to his tongue.

  
"AH! Fuck, oh fuck... auh..." James cried out, his fingertips drilling into the pillow as he bit the soft cloth, trying to muffle his cries as best as he could. "Oh God, yes.. just like that... like that, more... more..." He shook his head to clear the cobwebs from his brain in an attempt to remember to keep silent. It did him little good, however. As he whimpered into the pillow, he felt a sharp slap to his ass cheek and he yelped, looking over his shoulder at Steve. The blond was giving him a stern look. Ridiculously, however, the intended fierceness in his eyes was throttled by the sight of his tongue buried in him, and James couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up his throat, barking into the cool air.

  
"What's so funny?" Steve asked, pulling off of him to lick at his fingertips carefully. He waited until James had calmed down a fraction before prodding his ass with his middle finger. The digit breached him up to the third knuckle in one go, making the laughter in James' voice die out. A wicked gleam lightened his features as he watched James begin to thrash and whine into the air, insatiable in his pleasure. Steve gently crooked his finger against the bundle of nerves, feeling the knob inside him give a jolt at the feather light touch.

  
"Oh fuck, nothing, NOTHING if you don't put another one in me!" James cried, biting his knuckle to try and stifle his moans. By this point it was really too late, but he tried for posterity's sake. The brunet rocked his hips back against the finger, feeling a second begin to pierce him, stretching his muscle gradually. He needed Steve in him NOW. "Hurry up.. I need you..."

  
Steve just smiled, watching his lover writhe on the bed in need, and his features softened. Poor James... so desperate already, and he hadn't even gotten a third finger into him. He trailed his lips up and down the globes of his ass, kissing the sharp sting of his slap... lapping at the sweat pooling in the small of his back and savoring the salty tang it left on his tongue. With two fingers scissoring inside James, Steve slide up his back, stretching out over his body like a warm shroud to mouth at the back of James' neck and nip the exposed ear lobe. He graciously prodded a third finger against the stretched entrance, soothing the burning need inside James with pressure and stroking fingers, easing him open little by little. "Tell me when you're ready baby..."

  
James heaved, desperate for breath. He really was moving much too fast now, but this ache inside him was much more desirable, much more manageable. At the very least, it was preferable to the ever gnawing sensation consuming his stomach and making him dizzy with anxiety. The further they went, the more James thought about losing all of this and being alone again, and the fear was coursing through every nerve like a flame. Shaking his head hard, James looked over his shoulder at Steve and hissed. "Move. I'm ready." Without waiting for Steve to answer him, he pushed back, rolling Steve off of his back and pounced on him. James laid Steve out onto his back and straddled his lap once again. He didn't even bother to reach for the bottle of lotion on the side table this time. Instead, he reached between them and took hold of Steve's cock, angling it up towards his body and pressing the warm tip against his stretched hole.

  
Steve blinked back into awareness, looking up at James with surprise. "Whoa.. James slow down..." he said, voice tinged with worry as he watched James moving frantically. He tried to grip his hips and stop him, but the brunet was already lowering himself, pressing himself onto his cock. The hot, dry pressure of his descent enveloped the tip, and Steve gasped. If this was as hot and tight as it felt AROUND him, James had to be hurting. "Bucky... Bucky wait!"

  
"No!" James hissed, fighting to keep the burn from showing on his features. Thighs trembling slightly, he pressed on, splitting himself in two over the blond's member. He could feel Steve trying to stop him, his fingers digging into his hips to pull him off, and that just wouldn't do. James shook his head again and grabbed Steve's wrists, yanking his hands off of him and pinning it to the headboard above them. With full control now, James gritted his teeth and slammed down the rest of the way, the hot pressure blowing up to a sharp sting that had him crying out. But he was there... he was all the way there now and he panted, an elated smile painting over the pain of it. He stared down at Steve with a sweat speckled brow and a fire in his eyes, daring him to stop him now. "Don't... just keep moving..."

  
Steve stared up at him in shock, his body confused with exactly what to do with this. It felt amazing, being so close and burning up inside James, but the obvious pain James had felt when mounting him was making the blond have second thoughts. Something was bothering James and it was coming out like this, rough sex as a means of torturing those thoughts from him. But before Steve could argue with him, the editor slowly raised himself, his thighs still quaking. He slammed back down and began a brutal pace of fucking himself onto his cock. Steve gasped, throwing his head back into the pillows beneath him as his body came alive, tingling like a live wire of sensations. He gripped James' wrists back, holding tightly to him as he dug his heels into the bedding for leverage. His apprehension fled him with the fury of their lovemaking. James' earlier discomfort had obviously melted away, if the bliss coloring his eyes was anything to go by.

  
The cool air did nothing for the two of them as they rocked together. Feeling himself giving into the tension around him like a man starved, Steve bucked his hips up, thrusting into the man's body that met him with every downward stroke. Skin met in quiet impact, echoing in the room around them. James felt the ache of his split palm pressing against Steve's wrist, but he relished the pain, letting it fill him up with his pleasure to drown out the fears he harbored like a disease in his chest. But after a few moments, the ache in his palm radiated up his arm to his shoulder uncomfortably and he hissed. Letting go of Steve's wrist, he instead pressed his injured hand to the bed, taking some of the pressure off of the wound so he could focus solely on Steve. This simple action brought him closer to the blond and he leaned in, kissing him hungrily. Teeth clicked, tongues battled, breaths mingled, and still it wasn't enough. James moaned, opening his eyes to look into Steve's. Blue orbs met and for a brief moment they both stilled, lost in the other's eyes. James pulled back, stilling his hips a moment as he watched the blond. This.. this right here was the moment he'd been dreaming of for his entire life. This deep connection, this feeling of belonging. Hot tears sprang to his eyes as he smiled, cupping his bandaged palm over Steve's cheek and nuzzling him. "I love you so much, Stevie... I just.. I don't ever want you to forget that."

  
Steve paused, his hands slipping from the headboard to James' waist. He held him close, letting his fingers soothe the hot skin in gentle pets. He shook his head at James' words and smiled. "I won't.. I wont ever forget because there won't be a reason to forget. You deserve to be loved, Bucky. Just... don't question me. Let me do it."

  
With those words, that spoken promise echoing in his mind, James relaxed. His smile brightened a little and he nodded, finally able to let go of the frantic need and give into the slow passion that he craved so badly. His hips slowed on Steve's lap, riding him at a more sedate pace as he pressed his palms to the blond's chest. Steve was right. He wasn't going to forget him. Right then and there, James made up his mind. If this was the last time he was going to have Steve, he wasn't going to rush it in a frantic fuck that would end too soon. He wanted to soak him in to the bone and enjoy it for as long as possible.

  
Their movements slowed between them, from the frantic thrusts of wild want to slow, languid curls of heat. James leaned back, pressing his palms to Steve's thighs as he rose and fell. The sting had long since passed for him, leaving him panting heavily. His moans echoed in the room unhindered, head lolling against his shoulder. James let his hooded eyes glaze over and consume Steve's image, committing him to memory.

  
Rose petals of bliss rained down on his skin as Steve's cock stroked his insides, curling the heat inside him up tighter and tighter like a coil. Thoroughly lost to the moment, the brunet pushed his thoughts from his mind in favor of this last night. Mouth hanging open in a soft "oh", his back bowed over the blond's body as his hips connected with his lover's, puzzle pieces of perfection destined to be together for such a short time.

  
He didn't know when they moved. One moment James was riding the blond, then the next, he was on his back, his legs thrown up over Steve's shoulders and baring all to him. He wrapped his ankles around his back and leaned up into another kiss, breathing in his essence. He found his hands trailing up Steve's spine, feeling the ridges of his bones through the smooth skin beneath his fingertips and mapping out the hills and valleys of his muscles that were so tight they felt like steel cables. He let his fingernails graze over the skin, marking red lines in crosshatch over his back. After a moment, he slid his legs down his back, linking them at the mounds of his ass and drawing him in closer.

  
They didn't move from this position. An hour passed, inching up on two, and neither of them moved closer to the fall of completion. This wasn't a night for frantic. This was a night to remember. If only Steve knew the importance of these moments....

  
High on the adrenaline of their love making, James felt his climax inching up on him, pooling at his spine and raking down his limbs until he was numb all over. He panted into Steve's lips, nipping the already swollen flesh again and again before a particularly deep thrust had him seeing stars. He was close to the end now and he whimpered, letting his head fall to the bedding beneath them as he stared at his lover. He memorized the faint lines in his skin, the piercing ice blue of his eyes and the love that emanated off of him in waves. "Steve.. I'm close baby..."

  
"Shh.. don't fight it." Steve huffed. He smiled down at him, carding his fingers through the now sweat-blackened locks of James' hair and combing them from his beautiful face. He leaned down and laved at a bruise on his throat, pressing the flat of his tongue against the mark and sending a jolt of pleasure to the very tips of James' toes. The tension around him grew stronger and the blond knew they were close to the end. He too, could feel his climax approaching and he hissed, pressing his lips to James' pectoral to lick a pert nipple. "Let go for me. I wanna watch you..."

  
It only took those words for James to snap like a bowstring. He seized up, the head of Steve's cock stroking his over-sensitive prostate a few slow thrusts at a time, and he was clenching, body shuddering in a long and slow convulsion that had his vision tingling with snow. He choked on his breath, staring at the ceiling over Steve's shoulder and a soft "UUH!' fleeing his dry throat. Hot spurts of come splattered their skin as he hit his peak, thighs tightening around Steve's waist to draw him in against his twitching walls. "Oh fuck..!"

  
Two short thrusts later, and Steve was spilling into him, painting his walls with release and hips stuttering against his ass. The waves of bliss washed over them both in trembles as they simultaneously whimpered, burying their cries into each other. James' cock twitched against their stomachs, seeking out last minute friction against the still hard member while white hot heat caused a few weak spurts to chase his climax. He slumped against the bedding, boneless and overheated, but happier than he could ever be again in his life. He let his arms fall to the bedding beneath them, the sheets damp with sweat and come. James groaned into Steve's neck, a weak sound barely audible to his own ears but sated nonetheless. He fought to catch his breath against the other's sweaty skin and his smile weakened. It was late... his time was coming to a close with this gorgeous man. He tried desperately to hold onto these feelings and give himself something to remember for the long, lonely years ahead of him. James knew there was no turning back now. Once Steve's, he belonged to him and him alone. He knew he'd never find comfort in another human being's body again in his life as long as he knew Steve was his, on the other side of the Goddamn world.

  
Steve, for his part, was blissfully unaware of the torment running rampant in James' head. Instead, he pressed lazy kisses to the brunet's throat, rolling off of him to slide out of his wet hole with a groan, and curling into the bed next to him. Steve wrapped his arms around James' waist and held him tightly, peppering his lips along his shoulder, christening the ugly tattoo with a shower of love that could somehow wipe away the past that lay in his ink. Steve didn't speak. Exhaustion crawled through his limbs like wet sand, weighing him down into the mattress and across James' body. Instead of moving, he let his kisses grow weaker and fewer in between. He didn't fight sleep as he murmured "love you" once more against his skin, drifting off almost instantly into blissful dreams that would be ruptured in just a few short hours.

  
James didn't answer him. It was the only time he didn't tell Steve he loved him in return. He was too caught up in the realization that it was over. His dream was ended, and he was waking up to the harsh realities of the world once again. He vaguely wondered if sleeping with Steve this final time was a mistake. How could he go into the world without him, craving his touch like a starved addict and knowing he can never have it again. It was a cold slap of truth, one he couldn't shy away from this time.

  
Sleep eluded him the rest of the night. He lay awake for hours, watching the sun dance along the horizon, never really dipping below the mountains as gold and red illuminated the room through the curtains. Fear began to gnaw at his insides as he mentally played out how the day would end. Screaming, perhaps. Cries. Hatred towards him. His own heart shattering right back into a million pieces after being so meticulously glued back together by Steve. Was it all worth it? This whole fucking weekend that was ending in a bang of mistrust and hurt, rather than the happy conclusion they were both praying so hard for?

  
Yes. It was worth it.

  
Not the pain. Not knowing that he could never have this man for life, never really give him vows of long term commitment. But the fact that he knew his heart still worked was enough for him. He wasn't fully broken now, but he was sure that after the fall out, it would be broken for good. He could never speak to Steve again after this... not without it opening fresh wounds in him every time he hung up, or signed off a letter and shattered just a little bit more, a world away from his last salvation and alone, just as he had always been.

  
it was when he turned his head to look down at his lover, he saw the ring. It still sat happily on Steve's finger, glinting in the low light. His throat tightened as he stared at the gold band, dawning realization filling his mind. He knew what he had to do. This suddenly became more important than anything else he'd ever done in his life. And he had to do it now before he lost the chance.

  
Slowly extracting himself from Steve's arms, he watched the blond sleep, blissfully unaware of the nightmare about to unfold for them both. Swallowing his fears down, James padded silently over to the desk and withdrew a piece of paper and a pen. He sat down at the desk and began to write, watching the ink flow over the paper in long strokes, pouring out his final thoughts to Steve. He dug the words out from the deepest recesses of his mind and soul, pouring the last of his love into the paper before folding it up and tucking it neatly into its envelope. Then, he placed it in the side pocket of Steve's duffel bag, zipping it up and sealing his words inside.

  
Staring at the blond for a moment, James made his way back over to the bed and curled up next to Steve, pressing tender kisses into his skin one by one and blessing him with every ounce of himself he could. He prayed Steve would feel his love just as deeply and never forget him.

  
But more than anything, he wished that this last night could rewrite fate for two lovers destined to lose each other for good.

 

* * *

 

NSFW GIFS AHEAD

 

One last hurrah before they separate for good :(

 

 James needs to mark Steve for the last time

 

 James

 

 James' desperate sex that screams "i'm not ok, Steve"

 

 

 

 Steve has no idea...

 ...How much this hurts

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think i was going to write a second chapter of smut for this story, but necessity called for one last hurrah for the two boys before they lose each other.


	12. Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Steve meet their match, when Tony brings Agent Fury in to arrest James and take him away for good. James confesses everything to the town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be no pictures at the end of this chapter. I felt it wasn't appropriate to post anything following this chapter, considering this is the last time Steve and James will see each other. One more chapter to go before things even begin to remotely look up for our wayward couple :(
> 
> I'm so sorry for this chapter, everyone.

Morning had broken, bright and cold outside. Steve had woken from his sleep feeling rested and eager for the day. He had little idea that James was internally tearing himself apart. He had little idea that in just a few hours, everything he thought was going right in the world would come screeching to a halt in his life. He had little idea that the man he'd grown to love would be ripped from his clutches by the Government and sent away to a homeland that spoke little of care and everything about terrible memories.

  
Steve had no idea. James couldn't stop thinking about it. He couldn't stop thinking about it as he loaded his suitcase into the Jeep. He couldn't stop thinking about it as he dropped down to his knees and wrapped his arms around Cap's neck, burying his face in the fluffy fur for a final time. Pressing a kiss to Cap's nose, James offered the wolfdog a small smile, scrubbing his velvety ears one last time. "Goodbye Cap. It was nice knowing you." He murmured. Cap, sensing James' upset, whined and lapped at the brunet's face, his tail tucked between his legs. Goddammit, he couldn't do this. Shaking his head, James pulled away from the dog and clambered into the Jeep, trying his hardest not to look at the canine that whined for him, begging without words for James not to go.

  
He couldn't enjoy the atmosphere around him, the final views of Alaska he'd ever see in his life. He couldn't enjoy the happy banter between Steve and his parents. He just couldn't bring himself to look at these things one final time. His smiles were stiff, his laughter hollow and carefully placed in conversation. When they arrived at the diner, he climbed from the Jeep and made his way inside, hunching his shoulders as if he could hide himself from the world and pretend this wasn't happening.

  
After he'd secured a place for them, the four of them sitting down to enjoy their last meal, James felt as if he could die right there, his anticipation gnawing away at him like a cancer. He drummed his fingertips on the tabletop nervously, casting glances out the window every so often as the four of them waited for their company to arrive. Steve had left the table to go grab a basket of coffee creamers from the restaurant's food line, leaving him alone in the booth, with his parents at the adjacent table. It had been agreed that they would meet up with everyone at the diner for a last meal before spending the remainder of their morning in Sitka with Steve's friends. The four of them were the first to arrive at the restaurant and had ordered cups of coffee between them to pass the time. James had masked himself with a strong, confident smile all morning so far, and the strain of keeping his anxiety from his features was beginning to give him a headache.

  
Looking out the window again, he tried to spot any cars or individuals wandering the sidewalk that looked out of place. Coulson hadn't said WHICH agent was coming for him that morning, only that they would be there before noon. He cast a look down at his watch for what seemed like the 50th time in the past twenty minutes. It was only 8:02. This guy could literally show up at any moment, and that scared him more than anything. A small part of him hoped that it would be before the others arrived so they wouldn't have to see such a painful experience. Having Steve and his parents bear witness to it would be enough.

  
"Hey, what are you looking for?" Steve asked, placing the little basket down between them as he sat next to his partner. He threw an arm around James' shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze. "They said they'd be here by 8:30. Relax, Bucky. We'll get to say goodbye."

  
"Oh, right..." James murmured, casting him a weak smile. For the simple fact of giving him something to do, he leaned up and pressed a kiss to Steve's lips, letting himself linger for a moment. He didn't really care how clingy it made him look. He wanted to feel Steve's presence as much as possible in his final hours with him.

  
"EW, guys, gross. Not at the table. There's food involved, you know!" Wade chirped, popping up behind them in the adjacent booth and startling them both. As usual, he wore a massive smile too big for 8 in the morning, and he'd donned a bright red button up, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Somehow, the clothes miraculously already looked like he'd been rolling around in them for a few hours. Knowing Wade by now, he'd probably not slept the night before and spent all hours carousing the town and causing trouble. No one really expected any less from him at this point.

  
James looked back at the bubbly brunet and offered a small smile to him, letting his shoulders relax. As much as Wade freaked him out, he knew he was going to miss this wild and unpredictable fellow about as much as he'd miss everyone else. "Sorry, Wade. We'll try to behave ourselves in public."

  
"Hah! I have the power! Call me PDA-Man, defender of Public Decency everywhere!" Wade laughed, throwing his arms up into the air before slumping over the divide between booths. He pressed his elbows to James' shoulders and propped his chin up in his hands, looking down at both of them. "Whatcha guys doin', waiting for the others to show up? What time are you all outta here?"

  
Steve smirked, letting his hand rest in James' lap as he turned in his seat to greet Wade properly. "Yeah, everyone decided to have a big meal together before we left. Our plane takes off from Juneau at 3, so we gotta be out of here by 2. Would you like to join us? I mean, if that's alright with Bucky." Steve added, looking down at James and smiling.

  
James nodded, feeling his insides crack just a little bit. "Yeah, I'm fine with it. The more the merrier right?" Crap. Now there was going to be at least THREE people to see him get dragged out of the country, most likely kicking and screaming. He turned his attention back to the coffee in front of him and stirred creamer into the black drink, absentmindedly swirling the spoon in the cup.

  
"AW YEAH, VIP INVITE!" Wade hooted, climbing over the divide and plopping down next to James until he was balancing on the edge of the bench. After a moment, a curious look crossed his features and he looked to the counter. "I need more coffee. Two pots this morning hasn't been enough. BRB!" he said, springing from his seat and making for the counter.

  
James watched him with an incredulous little shake of his head. "You know, as much as he kinda weirds me out.. I think I'm gonna miss him." He said, his eyes still on the wiry man at the counter.

Steve looked down at him his smile faltering a little. "Yeah he's something else. But you know.. we can come back and visit whenever, right? It's not like we don't have room and board here when we need it."

  
James bit the inside of his cheek, cursing the slip-up before he looked over his shoulder at him and shrugged. "Yeah, I know. I mean... I meant that whenever we're not here, right? I'll miss 'em all."

  
"That goes both ways, Mr. Wall-street. We'll miss you too." Bruce chimed in, approaching the booth and smiling down at them both. "Looks like we're the early arrivals. I saw Nat coming down the sidewalk just a minute ago, she'll be here pretty quick. I'm not sure where Maria, Sam or Clint are though."

  
"They'll be here. Any chance Tony may be stopping by?" Steve asked. To his right, he felt James tense up, and he looked down, surprised at the action. James had his eyes locked on the table top He swirled his hand, the spoon still stirring the coffee beyond necessary, and his jaw tensed at the name. "Bucky? What's wrong?"

  
Bruce didn't seem to notice the sudden change in James, waving his hand slightly in the air. "I dunno he said something about doing something important today, but he said he may be stopping by before you guys leave. He seemed real interested in seeing you two off for some reason."

  
James' fingers tensed around the spoon handle and his breathing quickened at Bruce's words. He didn't look at either of them as his panic began to override every other thought in his head. Tony was going to be there. Tony was going to be the one to lead the agent right to him. As if his shame weren't already going to be unbearable, that bastard had to go and get prime seating for the whole thing. James suddenly stood from the booth, grabbing his jacket from the back of the seat.

  
"Bucky? Where are you going?" Steve asked, grabbing his wrist and looking up at him. His face was painted in a mask of concern, his eyes darkening a little at James' sudden change in attitude.

  
James almost blurted out everything to them both. Almost. But he swallowed his fears down at the last possible moment, cracking a weak smile on his face. "Nothing. I'm just.. I'm just stepping outside for a smoke. I'll be right back." He gave Steve's hand a small squeeze back before pulling away and shrugging into his jacket. Without another word, he made for the door, slipping out into the street and hiding behind the corner of the building.

  
Plucking a cigarette from the pack, he placed the filter between his lips and lit the tip with shaking hands. His worries and panic melted into anger as he puffed on the cigarette, not even really enjoying the taste now. Who the fuck did Tony think he was that he felt the right to personally hand him over to the authorities like that, like it was his fucking job? Did he think James was going to skip out and not fulfill his end of the bargain? This was Steve's life on the line. There was absolutely no way he was going to risk Steve's freedom by hiding like a cowardly bitch.

  
Biting the filter angrily, he stared out over the streets, his eyes still scanning the pavement looking for a man in a suit that clearly didn't belong there. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket, leaning back against the bricks to smoke and attempt to relax the tension in his shoulders.

  
No. He wasn't running. He was standing up for his sins, like he should have done long ago. And if Tony was going to be the cocky son of a bitch that ousted him in public to try and humiliate him, he was going to take it for Steve's sake, no matter how scared he felt.

"James, fancy seeing you out here!" A voice called to him. James looked up to see Peggy approaching him, looking sharp in a bright white sweater and a pair of dress pants. He internally groaned at the sight of her. Fuck, now SHE was going to be here to bear witness to this? He shook himself from his thoughts and smiled at her, pulling the old woman into a hug. He held the lit cigarette away from her carefully and smiled down at her. "Just out here grabbing a cigarette. The others are inside waiting to order food. Are you passing by?" He asked, hopeful that she wasn't going to be there.

  
"Oh goodness, no! I can't pass up the world's best cup of tea nor miss the chance to give you both a proper goodbye! I won't encroach on your time with Steve's friends, however. I'll be at the table with his parents!" She said cheerfully, smiling up at him before giving the cigarette a rueful look. "Those bloody things are bad for you, James. You're so young and vibrant. Don't let those things age you before your time."

  
James smiled a little, looking down at the cigarette in his fingers before shrugging. "I know. Steve's trying to get me to quit. I think he'll be the only person to successfully manage that feat, to be honest."

  
"Good on him! Well, I'll let you finish. See you inside, James." Peggy smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek before slipping into the diner.

  
James leaned back against the bricks again, rubbing his temples. This morning was turning out to be worse than he thought. Maybe he'd wake up in a few minutes and find this whole thing to be a horrible dream.  
Somehow, he really needed to stop giving himself false hope...

  
~

  
"So you're gonna send us some post cards when you get back to New York, right?" Sam asked through a mouthful of hash browns, grinning at the two of them. The group had arrived about five minutes after James had returned to the table and placed their orders. Chatter filled the diner between them, coffee was poured in vast amounts, and when their food arrived, they all dove in like starved children, feasting happily together. It SHOULD have been a bright and happy occasion.

  
Steve nodded to Sam, taking a sip of his coffee before nudging James in the ribs. "Yeah, of course we will. When we get a date for the wedding, we'll make sure you all are the first to know about it, too. Would you guys want to come to New York for the wedding, or should we come back up here?"

  
"Oh oh! You two should plan to get married at Mohonk!" Maria piped up, a huge smile crossing her face as she clapped her hands. "My cousin got married there, it's a BEAUTIFUL resort. It's right in the Hudson Valley, so not too far from where you guys live. I'd definitely put my vote in for that place!"

  
"Mohonk what?" Clint asked, raising a brow at her as he took a hearty bite out of some bacon. "I'm Googling this place. I'm not sure I'd want to get married at a resort that sounds like it caters to geese."

  
"Shut up, Clint. Take a gander, and weep!" Maria replied haughtily. Pulling the images of the resort up on her phone, she passed the device around to let everyone take a look. Mutual nods and whistles of approval left them all as they perused the images on the site. "See? I have good taste, don't you all agree?"

  
When the phone was passed to the adjacent table, Sarah and Peggy looked down at the pictures and cooed, agreeing wholeheartedly with the decision. Peggy handed the phone to Natasha before giving James a wink and a nod. "A wise decision. You both would look beautiful in a ceremony there!"

  
Natasha glanced over the images, her usually stoic features melting into a huge grin. "Yeah, this place has my vote, too. You should get married in the fall, right when the leaves are all gold and red... hell I want to get married here now, and I'm not even dating anyone! Sam, you should marry me so I can have my wedding there." Natasha commented, handing the phone to James. Maria threw her napkin at the redhead in protest and the table burst into laughter.

  
The brunet took the phone from Natasha, giving it a courtesy glance before stuffing the device into Steve's palm, not bothering to meet anyone's gaze. Yeah, the place looked beautiful. Too bad it was all an illusion now. Still torn up about his impending doom, he barely touched his food, pushing the eggs around the plate listlessly until they had turned into a runny mess melding with the soggy hash browns on the plate. It didn't even look appetizing anymore, and with a grimace, James pushed the plate away from himself. Despite his best efforts to hide his frown from the others, however, his demeanor was not missed by Steve. He could feel the blond wrap his arm around his waist and pull him close and for a brief, wild moment, he almost shoved him away. He was still simmering quietly under the skin at Tony's presumptuous actions, knowing full well that the last face he was going to see in this country was going to be that bastard's smug smile. His fingers tightened around his coffee mug until the ceramic began to creak. With a frustrated sigh that didn't go amiss, James scrubbed his fingers through his dark hair anxiously, looking out the window again.

  
Steve wasn't the only one to notice James' behavior. Wade suddenly piped up, leaning over the table to look at him dead on. "Hey, Bucky. You ok? You're lookin' at your food like it offended your hairstyle." Wade asked. All eyes went from the other to James, and equal parts concern crossed everyone's faces. James knew he meant well by asking, but he couldn't help the irritation that crossed his mind. 'Dammit, Wade, thanks for drawing attention to me', he thought to himself bitterly. Gritting his teeth, he looked up at them all before waving his hand to dismiss their looks.

  
"I'm fine, Wade. Just perfectly fine." He said, smiling a little stiffly before resuming staring at his mug. To the side, the clock was ticking by like a time bomb. Hell, he could practically hear the second hand clicking away in the far corner of the room. As he sat at the table, his periphery caught movement outside. James looked up to see a car parking on the other side of the street, a shining black Mercedes that looked far more expensive than any vehicle that ran these streets. Movement was caught in the shadows of the car window, and he felt his chest tightening as he stared at the car intently. But before he could see who it was that exited the vehicle, Steve leaned into his line of sight and gave him a heavy frown.

  
"Bucky, what's eating you?" He asked, piggybacking onto Wade's concern. He looked down at the plate and noticed that not a single bite had been taken, mixing into each other in a coagulated mess and growing cold in its neglect. "Is the food bad? We can ask if they can cook something better, if that's the issue."

  
Fucking Almighty, James didn't know if he wanted to slap the concern off of Steve's face, or kiss it. How could Steve be so calm in the face of James' apprehension? Clearly, the blond had not caught on that the something that was eating at him had stemmed from his disappearance the day before. Sighing heavily, James tore his eyes from the window and met Steve's gaze, his lips quirking into a pained smile. "No Steve... it's not the food."

  
"Then what is it?" Steve asked, prying further. People were staring at him now, and fucking hell, was it getting hot in here?

  
"It's nothing!" James almost snapped, his voice raising slightly. Everyone leaned from the table in surprise, taken aback by his outburst. Steve's expression went from concerned to suspicious in an instant and his fingers tightened around James' hip. He fucked up. Blushing furiously, he turned his head to look away from the table, when his eyes caught sight of the same car. Whoever was inside had finally stepped out, and to James' growing horror, it was not one man, but three. The agent that had exited the vehicle was dark skinned and wearing a very sharp looking suit. He had a clipboard in his hands, and two other men in uniforms stood next to him. One of them had a set of handcuffs clipped to his belt, and James could feel his heart racing in his chest. Outside the car was Tony, talking to them and pointing at the restaurant. When the man turned, James' face paled in realization.

  
Shit, he recognized him. That was Agent Fury.

  
Inhaling sharply, James stumbled from his seat in the booth, pushing away from the table with a pained sound. Everyone watched him in confusion, even leaning away from him at his sudden, erratic behavior. He didn't really care at this moment. All he wanted was to get the hell away from everyone before they saw his arrest. He already knew he was in the shitter according to reputation. Everyone was already going to hate him. He didn't need to add insult to injury by having them all watch him get dragged away in cuffs. As he attempted to flee the restaurant, he felt a hand clasp his shoulder, stopping him before he'd barely made it a foot from the bench. When he looked back, he groaned in frustration. Steve. Of course.

  
"Bucky, what the hell is going on?" Steve asked. Instead of answering him, James suddenly wrenched his arm from Steve's grip and grabbed his jacket from the back of the booth to head for the door. Steve's apprehension grew tenfold. Something was very wrong with this situation, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. "Bucky, stop!" Following him, he grabbed James' elbow again, spinning him around. By now, the entire diner was staring at them, and Steve could feel eyes boring into them both. But he kept his hand firm on James' elbow, trying to meet his gaze. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you alright?"

  
James stared at the window, his eyes wide in panic as he saw the four men approaching the diner. After a moment, he looked up at Steve, his face pale, eyes shining slightly in the diner lights. "No... I'm not..."

  
The tinkling of the door bell rang out into the air and all eyes looked up to the newcomers. Steve looked up over James' shoulder and saw Tony standing in the doorway. There were three men behind him and he frowned, looking down at James to ask him what the fuck was going on. But before he could ask, Tony spoke up.

  
"HEAR YE, HEAR YE!" he called, clapping his hands loudly as all eyes drew to the young man. His face was painted in a triumphant smile and he looked around the diner, meeting everyone's gaze proudly. "Now that I have all of your attention, I'd like to make a very public announcement! We have a few visitors with us today, flown all the way in from the Big Apple, JUST for this special occasion!" Stepping aside, he let the agent step forward, his eyes darting to James and Steve.

  
Steve felt his heart drop out the bottom of his stomach as he recognized the agent that entered the diner. Fuck. Instantly, he pulled James behind him, shielding him from the men at the door as he shot Tony a seething look. "Tony, what the fuck is going on?" He demanded, feeling his fists tightening at his sides.

  
"Oh, don't worry, Steve I got this all under control. Your enslavement ends today, my friend." Looking out to the diner and the people watching them, Tony smiled. "Never let it be said that Sitka is a quiet, unassuming place in this world. Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to Agent Fury, of the New York Immigration Services. Little did we all know, this ENTIRE weekend, we had someone special spending his time amongst us lowly people of Alaska. Someone who REALLY deserves an Academy Award for "Best Impersonation of an American Citizen". Agent Fury, would you do the honors please?"

  
Fury stepped forward, gesturing to his men and nodding to the brunet hiding behind Steve. "Cuff him. Yasha Barnes, you are under arrest for forging your immigration Visa and attempting to falsify marriage documents to obtain illegal citizenship into the United States." Fury's voice boomed over the diner. The two officers at his sides stepped forward, approaching James and Steve like attack dogs, their movements firm and decisive. One officer unclipped the handcuffs from his belt, watching James for any signs of resistance.

  
A collective gasp was heard from the diner, everyone's eyes darting from the agent to James. People shied away from the couple standing in the middle of the diner as if they carried the Plague itself. Behind them, Steve's friends stood from their seats, horrified expressions on their faces as they shot James confused looks. "Hold the phone, what is going on?!" Bruce shouted over the diner, standing up from his seat to meet his friend's gaze. "Who the hell is Yasha? Tony, what are you trying to pull?"

  
Tony smirked, crossing his arms over his chest to regard them all with a haughty air. "Isn't it obvious? Our sweet Bucky here is an illegal immigrant, homegrown right from St. Petersburg, Russia. Good trick he pulled on everyone. Almost got me too. Say hi to Yasha, everyone!"

  
Through the growing chaos of the event, Steve looked over his shoulder at James, his expression drawn and terrified. There was no way, after everything the two had gone through together, that he was going to let James get dragged out in cuffs and thrown out of the country, never to be seen again. As foolish as it may have sounded, he knew he'd wither away with a broken heart if he lost him now. "Bucky, get the hell out of here. I'll take care of this." He said, pushing him back with his elbow towards the back door.

  
James did not move.

  
"Bucky! Get out of here!" Steve hissed again, looking back at the officers as they approached him. "Why the fuck aren't you going?! What are you doing!"

  
Silence enveloped the diner as all eyes went from the agent to James. Mixed expressions cast over him. Some were shocked, some angry, some... some just looked pitied for the terrified man.

  
Steve glanced back at the agents, his mind reeling. In a last ditch effort to throw them off of their tracks, Steve stepped forward, holding his hands up to them. "I don't know where you guys got that idea from. James and I are getting married. He's not illegal." He said, his voice unwavering as he shot Fury a stubborn glare.

  
Fury met his gaze without hesitation, clearly having heard enough of these excuses to last him a lifetime. He reached into his clipboard and pulled out a typed transcript, holding it up to Steve. "That's funny, because I have a report filed yesterday at approximately 9:23pm Eastern Time, ousting the whole thing. That would be about 5:30 your time, correct? Says here... Yasha turned himself in for the forgery yesterday."

  
Steve blanched, staring at Fury for a moment before he looked back at James. "Bucky.. what..."

  
James didn't meet his gaze. His eyes remained locked on the tiled floor of the diner. His only response was to step out from behind Steve and up to the officers. Turning his back on them, he crossed his arms behind his spine, offering himself up to the officials without fuss. The air was thick as the cuffs clicked together, the metal sliding sickeningly into place around his wrists and locking. He finally looked up at Steve as he felt hands on his elbows, attempting to steer him away from the shocked blond. "That's why I disappeared yesterday, Steve... I couldn't keep up the lie anymore." He bit his lip, feeling his eyes stinging sharply in that moment. "That's why I sounded upset on the phone..."

  
Steve felt like his heart was ripped directly from his chest. He stared at the brunet in the clutches of the authorities and he instantly stepped forward, trying to pull him back into his arms. "You called them? Why?! Bucky, why.. why did you do that?" He asked helplessly, feeling his throat closing up on itself. Tears sullied his vision as he cast a glance at Fury and Tony, helplessly begging for answers.

  
"Tony found out about us.. he called in an anonymous tip yesterday to the office." James murmured, not daring to look at anyone else. Instead, he kept his eyes locked on Steve. "I called them right after and turned myself in. if I hadn't... you would have gone to prison."

  
Tony... of course it had to be Tony. Rage flushed Steve's face dark red as he shot him a murderous look. "You son of a FUCKING bitch..."

  
"Hey, whoa, easy there, partner. I was doing you a favor. You think they wouldn't have caught on on their own at some point? If they had, you BOTH would have been in the shit at that point." Tony defended, holding his hands up to him. He took a step back when Steve made to lunge for him, but was saved from attack by the most surprising person there: James.

James stepped in front of Steve, commanding his attention and making the angry blond look at him. "Stop! He's right, Steve. They were gonna find out eventually. This way, I knew for certain you weren't going to get in trouble. I couldn't let you go to jail for me..."

  
"But we agreed to this TOGETHER!" Steve protested, looking down at the brunet, his tears spilling down his cheeks in wet tracks. "We just got together... we were going to get married!"

  
"It doesn't matter, Steve!" James barked, looking up at him. Twin expressions of grief met each other and he looked away, biting his lip to stifle the swell of emotion in his features. "I lied. I got you involved when I shouldn't have. This is all my fault."

  
From behind them, Fury heaved a loud sigh, looking at the clock in annoyance. "I think we've had enough drama for today. My apologies ladies and gentlemen. Let us be out of your hair now. Yasha... Come with me." Fury growled, stepping up and grabbing James by the elbow personally.

  
"Wait!" James spoke up, looking at the agent holding him for a moment. "Wait.. let me.. let me tell them the truth. Please. Before I leave and they never know why..."

  
Fury and James stared at each other for a long moment before the agent relented, letting go of James' elbow. "Fine.. but make it quick. Sterling, go get his suitcase from the Jeep outside and load it into the car." He ordered, looking back at one of his men. The man nodded in return, disappearing from the diner. Fury looked back at James and gave him the go-ahead to plead his case to the entire town.

  
This was the part James had been dreading all day. He nodded back at Fury and turned his attention to the diner surrounding him. He felt his chest clench at the sight of EVERYONE staring at him accusingly. He couldn't ignore the angry stares he got, nor the pitied expressions. Sarah and Peggy stood together at the table, giving James the most pitiful looks he'd ever seen, and he felt his heart crack right in his chest. To their left, Joe was glaring daggers at James, his fists shaking at his sides and his cheeks flushed dark red.

  
Natasha, Clint... Maria, Sam and Bruce all looked completely taken aback. Their expressions were neither furious or upset, just.. confused. He didn't know if that was worse or not. Wade was the only other one that looked truly upset by the whole thing as he stood back by the booth, looking like someone had kicked his puppy.

  
For a moment, James let his eyes drift over the others around him and he sighed, lowering his gaze to his feet to steel himself. When he finally did, he looked up at the others again and spoke. "Hi.. everyone. I guess this isn't the morning you were all intending to have right?" No response came. James licked his dry lips in the silence and dove head first into his confession. " Like Agent Fury said, my name isn't James. It's Yasha. And he's right.. I was born in St. Petersburg, Russia. I am.. a Russian citizen. My crime began when I forged Visa paperwork when I was 24 years old and moved to this amazing country to start life fresh. Turns out that was a huge mistake. When the authorities found out last week, I realized that everything I'd lied through for three years was about to go up in smoke. So because I am a coward and I did not want to be deported... I forced Steve into marrying me."

  
The stares grew harder on his person. James could feel Tony shifting behind him, his smile never leaving his face. Gritting his teeth, the brunet closed his eyes and raised his voice. "When Steve and I began to work at Pierce Publishing together, I was.. horrible to him. Downright vile. I treated him terribly every day at work, and no one really knew why. The truth is... Steve was the kind of person that someone like me could easily take advantage of in the right circumstances, and in our case... I had just the right leverage to get him to do what I wanted. He has an amazing work ethic that I admire in him, and because of his honesty and sheer will to do right by people, I exploited that. I used it. I knew that he would do just about anything for anyone, especially considering that he had worked so... SO damn hard to make it on his own in New York. So because I knew that he would never turn down the opportunity to save his career and not let his life go to ruin, I used him. I blackmailed him into this... this whole charade."

  
James felt his voice cracking, the tears welling up in his eyes as he looked to Steve. Offering him a weak smile, he shook his head and tore his gaze away from him to face his trial head on. "I thought it would be easy to watch him lie to everyone he held most dear in his life, because to me.. I didn't matter to anyone, so why should anyone matter to me? At the beginning, Steve didn't matter to me. All that did was that I saved my illegal passage into America and then move on when the storm passed, essentially dump Steve and forget this whole thing ever happened. I sincerely thought that I could do it. I thought that I had it in me to ruin his life if he didn't hold up his end of the deal. Turns out I thought wrong.

  
"When I met all of you, I was.. intimidated. I was scared. I never... never really had this in my life, this.. feeling of family, of friendship, of unconditional love. I lost all of it when I was young. I never had much of a family to call my own, and when my parents died, I was completely by myself. I never really had friends. And when I finally got to meet you.. each and every one of you, it scared me to high hell, knowing that I wasn't allowed to have this sort of love in my life. And then I got to officially meet Steve. Really got to know him, and I realized... he is a wonderful man, with a huge heart way too big for his body, and he didn't deserve any of this shit that I threw on him." Turning his attention to Steve's friends, James smiled, rubbing his shoulder against his cheek to wipe away the tears running down his face. "You are all so lucky to have Steve in your life. He's a beautiful man, with a beautiful heart. And, to his family... your son is an amazing human being that I'm honored to have had the chance to officially get to know. "

  
James met Sarah and Peggy's gaze, his cheeks now heavily stained with tears. But the smile that crossed his face was defeated, and he forged on. "Please.. whatever you all do. It wasn't Steve's doing. Please don't be angry with him for the mistakes I made. This was all my fault, and I forced him into doing something he was wholeheartedly against this entire time. You are a beautiful, wonderful family. Please don't let this come between you all. You really don't know how beautiful it is to have a family, until it's gone and you can never get it back. And I can't let Steve go, knowing that he lost you all because of me. I'm sorry. I'm so.. so sorry."

  
Peggy and Sarah watched James confess his sins to them, sniffles leaving the two women. Sarah wrapped her arm around the old woman's shoulders, holding her close to her side as she gave James a heartbroken look. Joe turned away from him, unable to look at the liar that had almost ruined his son's life. To their right, Steve's friends stepped forward, looking just as betrayed as the others in the diner. Natasha stared hard at James, but to his surprise, she didn't look angry... she looked almost understanding. It pained him to even think she may understand what he was going through.

  
Through it all, Steve watched the confession with a heavy heart, his own face tear-stained. Blinking his eyes hard, he stepped up to James' side, taking his arm gently. "Bucky... please..."

  
James inhaled, looking up at him with a determined look on his face. "Steve.. this was a business transaction. It had been from the beginning. You held up your end of the deal, so I'm going to do my damn hardest to make sure I hold up mine. The position is yours. You'll be Editor in my absence. I swear to you, I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure you get promoted right away. I promise."

  
"But I don't want that!" Steve blurted out, his voice hitching in his chest. "I don't want the position. I want you!"

  
"You can't have me!" James said, looking up at him with a final expression. He shook his head, trying urgently to get Steve to understand. "You can't have me. Not now. Not after all of this. What's done is done, and I have to go. I'm so sorry." To his side, he felt Fury's hand wrap around his elbow again and begin to tug him for the door. Panic struck as he struggled against his grip and a fresh wave of tears washed over him. At the first signs of a fight, Fury and the remaining officer grabbed him by the arms and began to drag him towards the door, hustling him away from the horrified blond. "I'm so sorry, Steve!"

  
Steve saw his lover fighting against their grip, and a pained sound ripped from his throat. He darted forward, grabbing James' shoulders and holding him as closely as he could. Behind him, Tony wrapped his arms around Steve's waist and began to pull him back. "No!" Steve fought, wrenching out of Tony's grip. He surged forward, pulling James into a desperate, final kiss.

  
James lunged into the kiss in return. Unable to wrap his arms around Steve, he whimpered against his lips as he felt the blond crushing him into this desperate touch, as if he could keep him there with just this one action. He squeezed his eyes shut, breaths shuddering from his chest as he cried. Their lips met in a clash of teeth and desolation, their cries ebbing into the silent diner, drowning the whole experience in a sea of remorse, as if they could burn themselves, their very essence into each other to get them through the long, lonely years ahead of them. After a moment, Fury grew impatient, and ripped the two of them apart, dragging James for the door while the officer held Steve back at arm's length. "Steve! The ring!"

  
"I know!" Steve croaked, reaching down to grab the ring and tug it from his finger. "Wait! Give him this!"

  
"NO!" James shouted, shaking his head at him. "Keep it! I want you to have it. Please."

  
Steve paused, looking aghast at the realization that James was leaving behind his most prized possession, essentially giving the last piece of his heart to him that he could. "But Bucky.. it's your ring..."

  
"I want you to have it." The brunet repeated, shaking his head through the blur of his tears. "There's a letter in your duffel. It will tell you everything. Just keep the ring safe. That's all I'm asking." The door bell tingled above his head and he whimpered, looking down at the floor. He couldn't look at Steve anymore. "Keep it safe. Don't forget about me...!"

  
The blond watched, feeling his chest caving in. Reluctantly, he let go of the ring, letting his hands drop to his sides. "I won't.. I swear I won't." He cried, shaking his head vehemently at the thought that he could ever do such a thing to James' memory.

  
"That's enough, you two." Tony sighed, grabbing Steve by the elbow. He felt the blond struggling against his grip and he tightened his fingers, holding him back from following him out of the diner. Everyone bearing witness watched in dismay as the brunet was dragged from the building, the door slamming shut behind him. "Steve... it's over." Tony murmured, looking up at him. "Let him go..."

  
For a moment, the blond didn't speak. He simply stared at the door, his eyes tracking across the glass of the windows as he watched James marched to the car. When he saw Fury grab James by the neck and shove him into the backseat without remorse, something snapped inside him. He threw his arms out, throwing Tony into the nearest table with a loud crash of cutlery. Everyone gasped in shock at the sudden, violent outburst, shying away from Steve. Steve rounded on Tony and snarled at him, fury burning in his blue eyes. "Fuck you. Don't you fucking touch me again!"

  
Without waiting for a response, Steve bolted from the diner, running for the car. But as he did, the car pulled away from its spot, pulling into the street to take James away. He slammed into the door, pressing his hands to the glass where James sat just on the other side, screaming for the driver to stop. "BUCKY! PLEASE DON'T GO! PLEASE, LET HIM GO!" He begged. Despite his pleas, the car continued to pull forward, slowly gaining speed as they drove down Main Street. Not willing to give up just yet, Steve jogged next to the car, looking down at the miserable man just beyond his reach and committing his image to memory. "Bucky! BUCKY, LOOK AT ME!"

  
James never once granted his last wish. Instead, he averted his eyes from Steve, openly crying into his shoulder as he turned his gaze away from him. Steve's voice was muffled by the door, by the glass, but James could hear every cry, every beg as he ran next to the car. Each sob that he heard shattered his heart just a little bit more, and he turned his back to the door, unable to watch Steve trying so damn hard to keep him in his life. It was futile. There was no changing fate now.

  
Quickly, the vehicle gained acceleration, pulling away from the curb. Steve ran, his feet pounding the asphalt as he sprinted next to the car... then quickly trailing behind as the car pulled away from him, speeding down the road. Steve ran after the car shouting for them, for a few dozen feet before his lungs began to burn with exertion and he stumbled to a stop. Sobbing openly, he stared after the car as it took the one thing he'd grown to care the most about in his life, further out of his reach. Pressing his palms to his knees Steve gagged for breath, his cries hitching and hiccuping in his chest. He watched, completely heartbroken, as James was taken away by men who didn't care much for love... taken away from him for good.

  
"Bucky..." Steve whimpered, letting his tears stain the ground beneath him. "Please... Don't go..." There was no response. No one, but the oppressively cold Alaskan air around him, heard his final plea.

* * *

 

TBC... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This weekend, I will be gone to a convention in Chicago and won't be able to write anything for a few days. I hope this chapter didn't feel rushed, I really wanted to get it done before I left. I WILL be back Sunday night, however, and will continue working on my two stories at that point. Hopefully this chapter doesn't kill you all before then :( *legit was crying while writing this*


	13. The Message and the Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve confronts Tony for his actions and tries desperately to keep James in his life. James reminisces over his sins as he is flown towards his final destination. Steve reads the letter that explains the importance of James' ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies that this took so long to get up! I had a few days to recharge my brain, and weird work shifts that I haven't had in a long time I had to deal with. Planning ahead, there looks like there are 3 or 4 more chapters, depending on if I feel an epilogue is necessary for this story. Im so happy for everyone that stuck it out with me throughout this story. You are all beautiful people!
> 
> Tony gets a whoop ass for what he did in this story. Fury is kind of a dick. Poor Steve... it's time to feel bad for Steve this chapter.

[The Light at the end of the Tunnel by Kerry Muzzey](https://youtu.be/lNSANi3Hl00)  Do yourselves a favor and listen to this while you read. It got me through the chapter and gave it just the right amount of heartbreak and hope that this chapter needed.

* * *

 

 

Birds chirped quietly overhead, shadowing the entire scene in a false sense of calm. Steve had long since caught his breath back from his failed attempt to intercept the vehicle that had taken James away, but he hadn't moved from his spot since. He simply stared ahead, down Main street, drained of energy and the care to return to his abandoned family and friends.

  
He could hear footsteps behind him, and it took every ounce of strength he had to turn around. When he did, he saw everyone that had witnessed this travesty standing behind him, watching with mixed feelings for the blond. Some were clearly upset by the whole ordeal. His father looked furious beyond measure. His mother... God he couldn't even look at his mother right now. "The hell are you all staring at?" He croaked wiping the back of his knuckles across his cheek as he turned to face them all head-on.

  
No one spoke for a moment. The congregation looked ready to gear up and bombard the man with questions and demands to know what in his right mind made him think this was even remotely sane. Fuck, Steve didn't really know if he could handle the third degree coming his way. Thankfully, Natasha to spoke up first, saving him the trouble of having to start this leg of the conversation.

  
"Steve... are you OK?" She asked quietly. Stepping up to him, she placed her hand on his elbow, tugging him a little closer to the throng. "Talk to us. Please?"

  
Joe stepped forward, glaring down at his son for a moment before grabbing him by the shoulder and yanking him forward, out of Natasha"s grasp. "To hell with all of this. What were you THINKING? Do you realize you could have been sent to prison? That bastard almost ruined your life, and you're crying for him?! Sarah! Talk sense into this boy!" Joe shouted, looking back at his wife for support.

  
"He's not a bastard!" Steve shouted back, wrenching out of his father's grip before glaring at the lot of them. "Anyone that wants to say shit about Bucky, step forward RIGHT now and speak your mind! I did this willingly, and yeah... I knew that I could have gone to jail for it. I knew what I was getting myself into. But it was MY decision, no one else's! Anyone that says anything about Bucky, you deal with ME!"

  
"Steve, you're talking like a crazy person." Sam murmured, looking at his friend with a mark of sadness in his eyes. "James conned you, man. He said it himself. He didn't care about whether or not it got you in trouble."

  
"Yeah, in the beginning! And I knew that right from the start, too! We both went into this transaction, knowing that it was a con. There was no deception at all! But you all met him. I got to know him. He's different than that. He was hurt and he was damaged. And now look! He's getting sent back to Russia where he doesn't want to be, and he's going to suffer the rest of his life ALONE. You think that's fair punishment for him trying to escape history that nearly killed him?!"

  
No one answered. Joe's features softened a little before he glanced at his wife for clarification. Killed him... that never came up in conversation before. "Steve... he made mistakes..."

  
"Mistakes that were borne out of fear and self-loathing? Yeah, not exactly the best grounds for life altering, but it happened. And he was happy here. He was happy with ALL of you!" The blond argued, looking between them all before shaking his head and looking away. This was useless. There was no one here worth their salt that could fathom the truth. "Why am I even arguing with you all? You're not going to understand. Just leave it."

  
The conversation, at that moment, seemed final. So, of course, Tony stepped up to offer his two-cents into the situation, butting right into the topic at center stage. "Your dad's right, Steve. He fucked up. He almost fucked you over. You don't screw with the Government. Sooner or later, they will find out. Be mad at me all you want, but I did you both a favor, intervening before you two actually fell in 'love' each other.. dare I even say it. Someone that selfish can't possibly fall in love, right? Am I right?" He asked, turning to face the crowd around him.

  
He'd turned just in time to miss Steve lunging for him.

  
A flurry of blind rage, Steve launched himself at Tony, tackling him to the asphalt. Screams echoed up into the air in surprise as Steve pinned Tony to the ground and started whaling on him, fists flying for the other's shielded face. His voice ranged into the air, cracked and broken as he screamed at him. "YOU FUCKING WHAT! YOU'RE A BIT LATE FOR THAT, TONY! YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Moments after tackling Tony to the ground and landing a few solid blows to his jaw, Steve was wrenched off of the shorter man and dragged back by Clint and Bruce, the two holding him away from the stunned brunet on the ground.

  
Tony coughed wetly, rubbing his hand along his bleeding lip before glaring up at the blond. "Are you SERIOUSLY saying you fell in love with that prick in the 3 DAYS you spent with him?!" He cried. Protests filled the air around them all, a cacophony of arguments between people... those that sided with Tony's reasoning, and those that sympathized with the lovers' plight. Natasha broke from the crowd and ran to Steve's side, pressing her tiny hands to his chest to try and barricade him from approaching Tony further.

  
"QUIET!" Natasha barked into the crowd. "I AM STILL THE DEPUTY AROUND HERE! I have no problem throwing people into the precinct for public brawling if you ALL DO NOT SHUT UP!"

  
Silence fell over the crowd around them, people shifting on their feet as they gave the two angry men a wide birth. Steve wrenched free from Bruce's grip, glaring down at Clint. "Let go of me." he growled, feeling the shorter man's grip loosen on his elbow. He shrugged his shoulders, straightening his blue jacket before pushing past Natasha, casting his eyes to the bristling Tony Stark. "You're a fucking asshole. You're no better than the bully James had to deal with when he broke." Advancing slowly on the other, Steve glared down at him. "Let me count the ways for you, ANTHONY, why James was just as much a victim as anyone. James lost his family when he was 17 years old. His ONLY family. He was living alone in Russia that many years, trying to put himself through school so he could make a better life for himself. He got tied up in a relationship with a man who had the same mentality that you did: That James didn't deserve anything better than what the lowest of filth life could offer him. A man that beat him, strangled him, tried to fucking KILL him because he wanted nothing more than to get away and make a better life for himself. He almost DIED, drowning in his own bathroom because that man thought he was not good enough for a second chance. Now you just sent him BACK to that place, where all he's had is nothing but bad memories and a past that's ready to swallow him up in one bite again. You may have done what was legally right.. but you just sent a man back to a prison way worse than anything the legal system can offer here."

  
He stared down at the brunet, nose to nose with him. "Hide behind your daddy's suit, and what are you? You're a man that's had nothing but comforts all his life, free college, a huge home to call his own, and friends. James had to WORK to get what he had. And he made it, even if he made mistakes. And I'd support him in anything he tried again, just because he's a human being, someone that hurt for way too long. He went through all of that, and he shut down and closed off a heart that needed nothing else but to be loved to heal!"

  
Tony listened, staring up at Steve for a moment before he cast his eyes to the side. His cheeks were tinted in rouge, heart hammering in his chest as the blond recounted everything to him. Around him, the crowds fell silent, listening to the details James had only offered to one person in confidence. Not like it would make a difference now... James was gone for good. "Steve... I didn't know..."

  
"No, you're absolutely right, Anthony. You DIDN'T know." A voice piped up. All eyes turned, and the crowd parted like the Red Sea. From the throng, Aunt Peggy stepped up to the two men, her eyes blazing in fury. She cast a look up to Steve, ordering him without words to step back. As he did, she turned to face Tony, her jaw set and her withered fists curling at her sides. Suddenly, she reached out, slapping him across the face. The crowd gasped collectively at her reaction, shying away from the hurricane that was Peggy Carter's wrath.

  
Tony blinked, reaching up to touch his cheek where the sting of a slap still radiated off of his skin in hot waves. He stared at her for a moment before spluttering out a response. "Aunt Peggy... I..."

  
"No. Anthony, you do not get to speak right now. You listen to me. As an immigrant myself, I can tell you, the process is long. It's painful. And it is expensive. James may not have had the time to go about it properly, nor the funds to do it if he was working his way through school at the same time. And attempting to escape a violent man on top of it all? What he did was wrong, yes. I am not justifying his actions. He did go about it the wrong way. But when a young man is out there on his own, with no word of where an abusive and dangerous psychopath may have gone off to... would you sit back and wait for paperwork to file properly?"

  
Tony stared at her, his eyes wide before he shook his head. "No..."

  
"No is right! Have you ever looked into a man's eyes and read his entire story without preamble? Because I have. And I saw a man who was scared, alone, and seeking love in a cold, vast world where he had no one. A man, who in a fit of desperation, lied to try and escape his past. I seem to recall your youth, dancing along the fringes of legality in quite a few instances in your life. Drinking? Parties? Brushes with authority? And all swept under the rug because of FAMILY you still had, people who could keep you SAFE. How do you expect you have the right to cast judgment on another after the things YOU have committed? Let ye without sin cast the first stone!"

  
Quiet murmurs filled the crowd around them. Behind her, Natasha watched the old woman lay it out on the line for the rest of the crowd, a small smile crossing her lips. She wrapped her arm around Steve's elbow, looking up at the blond with a reassuring smile.

  
Steve did not smile back. He kept his eyes firmly locked on the man being chastised in front of him. Even now, his chest felt as if it would cave in at any second.

  
Tony simply stared at the old woman, feeling smaller and smaller with each word. "I still don't see how Steve can claim he fell in love with Yasha.. James... so quickly. In three days? They hated each other for two years. How does that all change in a weekend?"

  
"I can answer that." Steve piped up, stepping forward. "I spent two solid years with that man. Working for him through thick and thin... fuck we spent HOURS together. Despite his cold exterior, I always saw that he had a spark of something completely different in him. He may have shielded his real self with bitter words and a cold expression... but it was there. And when he chose me as worthy enough to show what was really inside him... I realized that he was just a scared man, and I was the first person he felt safe enough to show his true colors to. He was the first to apologize to me for what he did, not the other way around. There was always a sense of respect between us, even when he spent most of his time yelling at me. He always defended my work to Pierce, always gave me opportunities to better myself and trusted me with more responsibility than anyone I've ever known. His real self was just guarded by hurt and pain, and I was one of those people that categorized him as someone with no heart. I made that mistake too... and when I got to know him... really, REALLY know him... I realized that he and I were more alike than we could ever imagine."

  
"Love is a funny thing, Anthony. It makes you insanely angry at the other person. It makes you fight and bicker and say hurtful things.. but it also makes you see things from the other person's perspective. It makes you REALLY read a person and connect on a level deeper than skin. When James opened up to us about his family, I watched Steve enter the room and listen, desperate to know what had put such a heavy frown on that man's face." Peggy's voice softened as she spoke, looking up at Steve for a moment. Now, her eyes were shining and she reached out, taking the young man's hand in her frail fingers. "They are kindred spirits. And once that bond is formed, it can't be broken. Ever."

  
Steve felt his chest hitch with sadness at her words, and he lowered his gaze. To his left, he felt a presence approach him and he looked down to see his mother watching him with saddened eyes. He smiled at her and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

  
"Stevie..." Sarah murmured, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I know.. I know you love him. I could see it in your eyes the moment I saw you two together. Even when you two had not grown close yet... it was there. That connection. And I'm so sorry this happened, baby." She murmured. Leaning up, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, holding him close for a moment.

  
"I know, mom.." Steve murmured, closing his eyes as he hugged her close. "I wish there was something I could do..."

  
No one spoke for a moment. Suddenly, a throat cleared and everyone present looked up. Tony was shifting in his spot, looking out over the bay towards the distant airport. "There may be. If you hurry.. you might catch the plane before it takes off. The tower had reported in this morning, commutes were running about 10 minutes behind schedule..."

  
Breaths caught in throats as the crowd swiveled their eyes to Steve. The blond blanched, looking over his shoulder towards the distant airport. It was at least a 15 minute drive to get there, even taking the short cuts. But if he hurried... "Nat." he said, looking down at her, his watery eyes hopeful for a moment.

  
"Get in the squad car." The red head immediately ordered, grabbing her keys from her pocket. The crowd behind them began to shout encouragement as Steve, Natasha, Sarah and Joe piled into the car. Peggy stood back with the crowd, waving to them.   
"Hurry, Steve! Bring him home!" Peggy called, giving the man an encouraging look.

  
The siren of the squad car wailed to life, the vehicle lurching forward and speeding down the street towards the bay. Inside the car, Steve sat at the edge of his seat, drumming his fingers along the dashboard of the car as Natasha sped down the road, her foot pressing the pedal to the floor. In the back seat, Sarah and Joe sat together, murmuring encouraging words to their son as they flew for the airport.

  
Trees whizzed past the car, a blur of green and brown, the sunlight streaming in golden ribbons from the scenery around them. Despite the relatively cool morning, sweat was beading on Steve's brow in anxiety. "The left fork! You might miss the bridge if you go that way." He said, looking at Natasha.

  
The red head shook her head, giving Steve an apologetic look. "They blocked off the left fork. Storms last week knocked over a few trees. They still haven't been cleared out."

Joe leaned forward in his seat, rubbing his son's shoulders to try and relax him. "Keep the faith, Steve. We'll make it." He murmured. Casting his wife a concerned look, the two of them knew... they would be cutting it close if they made it at all.

Nearly ten minutes later, the squad car screeched into the parking lot of the airport. The car had barely braked at all before Steve was leaping from the door, stumbling to his feet as he set in a dead run for the tarmac. His heart was hammering in his chest, looking out over the runways for any planes preparing to depart. He saw none. "Shit! Shit! Where is it?!" He shouted, spinning on his heel. As he scanned the grounds, he heard the sound of a plane engine in the distance, and he whirled. Looking up towards the tower, he saw it.. the plane headed for Juneau gaining down the runway, ready to take to the skies. "NO!" He shouted, running for the tarmac. As he bolted across the grass onto the asphalt, two air traffic controllers saw the wild blond and ran for him, shouting for him to get out of the way.

  
Steve had ALMOST made it before he was tackled by the traffic controllers. The air was a noisy din of shouts, the engines of the plane screaming into the atmosphere around them, and Steve's own blood pounding in his ears. He felt himself dragged back towards the safety of the airport grounds. "No... No..." he gasped, watching the plane careen down the runway and take to the skies, leaving him behind.

  
It had been so futile. All of this.. this whole weekend had been for nothing. Lowering his gaze to the grounds beneath his feet, Steve slumped against the workers' hands, allowing the two men to drag him back towards the squad car. He didn't look up when they released him and shouted at him for his stupidity. He didn't look up when he felt Natasha wrap her arm around his waist and pull him into a hug.

  
Sarah stepped forward, her expression sorrowful as she reached out. She grazed her palm along her son's reddened cheek, making him look up at her. "Oh Stevie.. I'm so sorry. We could.. we could try to get to Juneau... maybe catch him there."

  
Steve shook his head. It would be over an hour before the plane would come back. Then another 40 minutes to fly BACK to Juneau just to try and catch him? It was pointless. James and Agent Fury would already be on their way back to New York by then. He wouldn't catch him at Juneau. And with the Immigration officer so close to adding another notch to his career belt, he'd never relent by the time Steve got there. It was well and truly over.

  
Steve inhaled, looking away from his parents as he voiced his defeat. "It's no use. By the time I get there... he'll be gone. He's got less than a day before he's gotta be out of the country."

  
"Sarah... he's right." Joe murmured, looking down at her. "He's in the Government's hands now. It was pointless to try and stop them now. They won't let him go for anything."

  
"Nothing is pointless, Joe!" Sarah snapped, looking up at her husband. Her hand tightened around Steve's wrist and she inhaled, looking up at her son. A silent, mutual understanding past between them and she relented. There was no point. Not now.

  
After a moment, Natasha stepped forward, placing her hand on Steve's shoulder. "C'mon.. I'll drive you three back. Steve... he has a plane to catch at 2."

  
His shoulders tensed at her words and he looked up, his eyes burning with frustration. Why... why did this have to happen to them both? Why, when he finally found something good in his life, did he have to lose it all again. "No..." he murmured, pulling out of her grip and stepping away from the three of them. "I'm not leaving today. I can't go back there today. I'll... I'll trade my ticket for a flight out of here tomorrow." He looked back at the three of them, his eyes burning in the sunlight. He scrubbed his palm across his eyes, wiping away the remnants of tears before he spoke again. "I'll be back later... need to walk, or something..." He murmured.

  
"Take all the time you need, Stevie... We'll be at the house." Sarah murmured, looking at her husband. Joe nodded in agreement, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close. "Natasha, would you mind..."

  
"Not at all, Mrs. Rogers. I'll drive you two back to the diner." she replied, gesturing for the car. As the three of them crawled in, Natasha shot her friend a look, her face masked in pity and understanding. "I'll let the others know..."

  
Steve nodded, unwilling to speak again. He didn't trust himself not to explode right there on the spot if he opened his mouth. Instead, he turned away from the car, making for the tree line and disappearing from sight. He'd never felt so broken hearted in his whole life. James... James was gone. He'd never see him again. Fucking hell, he'd never even given the brunet his parents' home number to try and contact him by. And now it was too late.

  
He'd based too much of this weekend on hopes and anticipation, rather than real planning. Everything had happened so fast... Fuck, he'd never expected to actually FALL for James. And James for him? That thought was even more absurd. His mind was reeling as he plodded through the thick undergrowth, leaves brushing his cheeks every now and again. In all honesty, he didn't care if he got lost at this point. He already felt lost...

  
The phantom echo of the plane turbines echoed in his mind, making his stomach seize up in despair. He gasped for breath, looking up at the skies.. well, what skies he could see through the thick tree coverage. But that was stupid. There were no planes around right now. James' flight had long since departed.

  
Energy spent, the blond stumbled into a clearing, leaning his back against a tree as he fought to gain his legs back. Well and truly alone now, he let himself break down, slumping to the earth beneath him. He cried, burying his face in the crook of his elbows, his knees tucked to his chest. Guilt wracked Steve's chest as he thought back to those two years he'd spent with James, working like a scared little pup underneath him. He wished he'd tried to get to know him sooner. He was almost completely certain that if he'd tried to speak to him like a human being, rather than a tyrant to be feared, this would have been solved much sooner and James would never have been deported. He wished he'd never painted such foul, ugly pictures of James to his family and friends. If he hadn't, Tony wouldn't have had reason to go digging around his past, looking for a reason to find a lie between them.

  
Could have, should have, would have... It all rattled through his mind like pebbles in a can, making his head hurt and his chest constrict. There were so many what-if moments in his head he could barely breathe with the possibilities.

  
Sniffling, Steve lifted his head, staring out over the clearing he'd found himself in. Well, shit, he knew exactly where he was. Apparently he can't even get lost correctly. Kicking a rock in front of him, he watched the pebble scurry away from his foot, and he sighed. "Goddammit... why the fuck did this all have to come out? Why the fuck couldn't Tony leave well enough alone?" He asked no one in particular. Nothing and no one replied to him.

  
Letting his head thump back against the trunk of the tree, Steve let himself wallow, slipping deeper into a sense of despair. Above him, the sun made its way across the blue sky, changing the shadows in the clearing around him. It was probably well gone a few hours at this point in time. People were probably looking for him.

  
Not that he gave a flying fuck.

  
Tiredly, the blond crawled to his feet. As he did, his phone fell out of his pocket and landed in a mossy patch, screen up. He stared down at the device for a moment before he plucked it from its bed and dusted off the green flecks. For a moment, he didn't move. When he did, his thumb swiped across the screen, bringing up his contacts list. At the top, "Boss man" sat shining on the screen, and next to his number, was James' company portrait. It was a stern gaze, strong jaw and cold eyes... but the longer Steve stared at it, he saw the sadness in James' expression. Sadness, he should have seen a long time ago.

  
"Bucky... I'm so sorry." he murmured, tapping the screen for a few moments. When he finished, he closed the contact screen, bringing up his home page. James' portrait sat as Steve's new wallpaper. "I promised you I wouldn't forget you. I am not giving up on that promise. Ever."

  
~*~

  
James stared out the airplane window, his eyes never leaving the landscape below him. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his shoulders. Damn these tiny seats. Fury had not uncuffed him once since he'd been dragged out of the diner. And now he sat in the cramped hopper plane seat, his hands folded behind his back as he stared out over the Alaskan tundra. James shifted again, propping himself up on his hip to lean against the window. That provided some small relief as he felt the pull in his shoulders lessen. A small sigh of relief escaped him as he leaned his forehead against the window, watching the earth pass them by far below. He tried to commit each second to memory, knowing he'd never get the chance to see any of this again.

  
To his left, Fury sat buckled in his seat, staring straight ahead at the seat in front of him, militant posture keeping his shoulders erect and jaw held high. He cast a glance over at James, his eyes narrowing slightly before he spoke up. "Buck up, kid. You did the right thing, turning yourself in. Steve walks free, and you get the satisfaction of knowing that he's alright because of you."

  
James tensed at his side. After a few long moments, he spoke up, breaking the oppressive silence between them. "What happens to me now?" He asked simply. Looking to Fury James leveled his gaze at him, keeping his jaw tense from the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm him. There was absolutely no way he was going to let Fury see him like this... broken hearted and upset.

  
Fury shrugged for a moment, looking out the window. "When we get back to New York, you get your things from holding and you get out. We've already taken the liberty to clear out your office of your things, and your apartment has been packed up. We thought we'd save you the trouble of having to do it all yourself. Considering, you know, there isn't anyone out there to help you."

  
"Yeah, thanks for the reminder." James retorted, looking out the window again. "Do you take joy out of ruining someone's shot at happiness, or is it just part of the job description?"

  
"Need I remind you, Mr. Barnes... You brought this on yourself. Coulson and I have been eye-ing up your case the entire weekend. Imagine our surprise when you actually called to turn yourself in. Made our jobs incredibly easy from that point on."

  
James slumped in his seat, letting his temple thump into the wall of the plane. A bout of turbulence had them jarring in their seats, and the tension in his arms pulled again, making him hiss uncomfortably. "Do you think you could remove these cuffs for like.. ten minutes?"

  
"Nope." Fury murmured, staring straight ahead again. James couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw the corner of the agent's mouth quirk up a bit in his response. Asshole.

  
James fell silent again, staring out the window. A cloud passed the plane by, obscuring his view from him before he found the courage to speak again. "And.. our deal... it still stands, right?" He asked, looking over at him.

  
"What deal?"

  
The brunet felt a jolt of panic run through his chest at the words and he inhaled sharply, sitting forward. "About Steve? He's not going to go to prison, is he?"

  
Fury didn't speak for a moment. Instead, he threaded his fingers in his lap, mulling over his words for a moment. "If I had any say in the matter, he would be. But Coulson found a sort of pride in your noble sacrifice. He's taken care to wipe Mr. Rogers' slate clean. So in answer to your question, no.. he's not going to prison."

  
Once again, James felt his shoulders loosening and he sighed, closing his eyes in exhaustion. This was going to be a long flight if he had to listen to Fury's snide remarks the whole time. But at least he could relax, knowing that Steve was in the clear. "Thank you..."

  
Fury grunted in response, looking to the opposite side of the plane. People were staring at the two of them, giving James uncomfortable looks as they spotted the handcuffs around his wrists. Fury glared them back down in submission, a gaze that simply said, 'Look away if you know what's good for you'. After a moment, he looked back at James and leveled him with a stern look. "Why are you so concerned with Mr. Rogers' wellbeing? Weren't you the one that coerced him into this whole plot from the beginning?"

  
James shrugged, opening his eyes to look at the agent next to him. After a moment, he spoke, his voice low. "Believe it or not, Steve was the only person to know me in the past and still give me a chance at redemption. I learned a lot about him over the weekend and he about me... and he still gave me the benefit of the doubt to believe that I could be a good person. I wasn't about to take that away and hurt him because I wanted to be selfish and do only what I thought was in my best interest. Now i'm only concerned about his."

  
Fury stared at him as he spoke, his eyes widening a bit. "Don't tell me you actually fell in love with him?" He said, sounding about two seconds away from barking out an incredulous laugh.

  
James ignored the mocking tone in favor of glaring the agent down, his eyes burning brightly with conviction. "Mock me if you want. I'd rather go back to Russia knowing I had one weekend in my life to know someone loved me, than not have it at all and get away with lying my way into the country."

  
Fury simply raised a hand to him in defeat, shaking his head. "Well I'm glad you got your weekend then, Mr. Barnes. Tomorrow you'll be on your way back to Russia and you can go on in your life, knowing you had that weekend you're so damn proud of. Hopefully his hometown feels the same way you do. You didn't just hurt yourself.. you hurt a lot of people."

  
"And you don't think I know that? I do!" James snapped, shifting to face the agent fully in his seat. "I know what I did was wrong. And I'll take that with me for the rest of my life. I don't need help from you."

  
"Watch your tone, Yasha. This deportation is considered a soft one in comparison to the others I've had to deal with. Just keep pressing your luck." Fury growled back at him, his glare shunning the ex-editor back into his seat. "Now just settle yourself down. We got a long flight ahead of us."

  
James slumped again, turning fully away from the agent. The clouds had cleared from the window again, offering him his final look at Alaska. They were descending towards Juneau now. This was his last chance to say goodbye to this state. His last chance to feel anything at all before he closed his heart off for good from the world. He sure as hell didn't want to miss a moment of it...

  
~*~

  
That night, Sarah approached her son's bedroom, holding a cup of tea in her hands and a sorrowful look on her face. Steve had finally returned home just an hour before, after wandering the terrain for most of the day. She couldn't shake the horrid feeling she had for her son, how broken he must feel now, and wanted to offer him as much comfort as she could.

  
Knocking softly on the door, she let herself in, poking her head around the corner. There, on the bed, Steve lay curled up on his side, staring at the fireplace. His expression was a dangerously neutral blank, but the red hue of his eyes gave away his sadness. "Stevie...? Can I come in, darling?" she asked, her voice low and tentative.

  
Steve nodded, not bothering to move from his spot as he motioned into the room towards the foot of the bed. His duffel bag sat at the foot of it, on the floor, and unzipped. He'd managed to scrounge out his sleep pants and a toothbrush, but everything else still sat inside, folded and ready to go home.

  
Sarah crossed the room, sitting down on the bed and placing her son's feet in her lap. She gently ran her hand up and down his calf, her eyes migrating to the fire as well. "Here.. I brought you some tea." She murmured, holding the mug out to him.

  
Steve reached over, taking the mug from his mother with a weak smile. He placed it on the table next to the bed and resumed his previous task of staring at the fire. But as he did, this time, he let his thumb run over the gold band around his ring finger, gently caressing the cold metal against his skin. "Thanks mom..."

  
Neither of them spoke for a few moments. When the ice broke, Sarah spoke first, looking down at him. "I talked your father down. He was still fairly mad about the whole thing... but I think I got him to see reason finally."

  
"There's no reason he needs to see. I fucked up. He has every right to be mad at me."

  
"He wasn't mad at you, honey. He was mad at James." Sarah murmured, reaching out to touch his knee. She was startled when Steve suddenly sat up, glaring at her. She leaned back, her eyes wide in shock at his sudden motion.

  
"Why the hell would he be mad at James? Did he not HEAR everything Bucky told everyone in the diner? He was trying to get AWAY from Russia.. hell his ex tried to KILL him!! Would you want to go back to that country if all you had waiting for you there was a grave plot with your parents in it and a psychopathic ex probably running around still?! He was scared! This was home to him! I wanted it to be home with ME!"

  
Sarah blanched, looking at her furious son for a moment before she reached out. She cupped the back of Steve's neck in her palm and pulled him closer, pressing their foreheads together. The motion calmed Steve some and he slumped against her, closing his eyes weakly in her touch. "Stevie... I know. I explained what I knew to your father, and he calmed down. He understands James was scared. He was just... he's just worried sick that you will come to ruin because of his mistakes."

  
"I'm not. James made a deal with them. They aren't coming after me as long as he turned himself in willingly. He made sure nothing was going to happen to me, mom, at his own expense. If dad can't see that he actually cares about me after that, then he's dense."

  
"That's no way to talk about your father, Steve." Sarah scolded, though her words did not hold the bite they should have. Instead, she reached out, pulling her son to her side and wrapping her arms around his waist. "Stevie... I understand. You're hurt. We're all hurt." She murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple. She felt her son slump into her arms and a small, weak smile came to her lips. "We all wanted James to be a part of our lives. Even after everything you told us of the two years of hell that he put you through. When we met him, he was a completely different person than who we thought him to be. I'm very glad that we all got to meet the real James." Sarah closed her eyes as she thought over her words. "I just want to know. When did you fall in love with him? I mean really fall in love with him?"

  
Steve didn't answer. He just pressed his temple to his mother's shoulder, letting her comfort soothe him and her arms envelope him like a warm, comfortable shroud. When he found the strength to speak again, a small smile crossed his lips. "I think it was after the party you threw us both. We went out to Thor's stables to borrow a couple horses... that was the first real conversation I had with him. I got to know so much about him in those two hours. His likes.. his dislikes... I learned he knows how to dance, and that he hates chocolate. I was wrong about him. About everything. He's a real person, not just an Asset. But even still, I always had a feeling that there was something he was hiding from the world, every day I worked with him. I just had no idea that he was hiding the perfect man I could ever want inside that shell."

  
Sarah listened, a trace smile crossing her lips as she listened to her son talk. When he fell silent again, she looked down at him, brushing his bangs from his forehead. "I know... I could see it in you the way you looked at him. In the way he looked at you in return." She sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "It was the same look your father gave me when we were first married... the way he looks at me now."

  
Steve felt his chest tightening. He'd only known a few people to be truly in love, and his parents were in that elite group. To hear that his mother saw the same connection between himself and James... "... Ma, what am I gonna do?" He asked, his voice breaking. "I'm never gonna get to see him again. He's gone for good."

  
Sarah shushed him, carding her fingers through his blond hair. "Shh, baby. I know. But nothing is truly gone forever. I always believe there is a higher power out there somewhere, and when the time is right, things will get better. Just have faith." She murmured. Pressing a kiss to his crown, she let go of the man, reaching up to brush his tears from his cheeks. "Have faith, Stevie. Believe that you two are the One for each other... something good will happen. Don't give up."

  
Steve listened to her. He couldn't possibly see how anything good could come out of this situation, but his mother had been annoyingly right in the past... Fuck, who was he kidding, it would take a Goddamn miracle for any possibility of seeing James again. But he wouldn't take away his mother's comfort now. She was doing her best. He offered her a watery smile in return, letting her soft thumb brush the tears from his cheeks. When she stood and offered him one last kiss goodnight, he closed his eyes, soaking up the affection he felt pressed to his forehead. He kept his eyes downcast as she left the room, closing the door behind her and leaving him alone in his thoughts.

  
Exhaustion crept up on him and he lowered his forehead to his palms, cupping his head in his hands as he tried to stave off the fresh bout of crying that wanted to consume him. He'd wept enough that day. Shaking his head, Steve inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a brief second before he let it out in a rush. He turned for his duffel bag, reaching for a clean t-shirt to put on and ready himself to crawl under the blankets for the night... even if it was only 8pm.

  
But as he reached for the shirt, he saw the corner of a piece of paper protruding from the side pocket of his duffel. Pausing, he stared at the paper for a moment as a memory clicked into place. His eyes skirted down to the ring on his finger for a moment before he was tearing the zipper open, pulling out the letter James had left him.

  
Holding the envelope gingerly in his fingers, he memorized James' fluid script, the way the ink seemed to meld into the paper with ease, just as elegant as the man that had written it. The envelope simply had his name printed into the paper, but to Steve, it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. After a moment of admiring his handwriting, Steve tore the envelop open, pulling out a piece of stationary paper. It was filled, front to back, with James' last words to him, and he felt himself gearing up for whatever James had to say in his final hours with him. Phantom memories of the night before crawled over his skin, as he realized all too late he didn't need a letter to tell him what James had been feeling. James was telling him everything he needed to know through his actions. He knew something was wrong with James when they made love, the way the brunet forced himself beyond his limits to the point of pain, just so he could give everything he possibly could to Steve. His throat clenched up at the memory, realizing he should have stopped them, should have demanded to know what was hurting James so badly. But he didn't... and he was still kicking himself for it.

  
Brushing his fingers along the ghosts of James' love-bites on his neck, he began to read, his eyes skirting the paper as he let himself into James' final thoughts:

  
**To my dearest Steve,**

  
**Today is the day you read this letter, after watching me torn away from you for the rest of our lives. Before I explain the reasoning as to why I gifted you my ring, I wanted to apologize from the depths of my heart and soul for what you had to witness. I thought, from the beginning of this whole venture, that this would be an easy task for us to complete... that we would go about this whole weekend deceiving your family and friends and pretend that none of this ever happened. I never took into consideration that I would actually fall in love with you, nor you with me. I realized beyond any count, that I love you more thoroughly than I was ever capable of loving another human being in my life... and now we must be separated. I was a fool for what I did, the lies I wove, the hurt I caused. I want you to know, I blame none of this on you. I take full responsibility for the hurt both of us will feel in this outcome. And I am so sorry, sorry enough that I will never forgive myself for deceiving you, lying to you on our last day together, and breaking your heart. You are a man made of gold and perfection, and nothing harmful that is coming your way is anything you ever deserve in this life, or the next.**

  
**You may be wondering why it is I gifted you my ring. You said so yourself, that you knew this ring meant so much to me. It does. No one ever knew this, but you will be the first. That gold ring was my father's wedding ring. It was the only article from my parents' scorched and destroyed home that I was able to salvage. You see the darkened marks on its side? That is from the fire that took my father and mother from me. When the authorities discovered the ring in the ruins of my old home, I knew it had to be a sign that there was something good left in this world. Something good that was just waiting for me to find it.**

  
**That something was you. My parents always said that love followed this ring wherever it went. The ring belonged to my great grandfather, my grandfather, and then my own papa. Every one of those men found their soulmates in life, and always that ring found its way into marriage. I was to receive the ring from my parents when I found the man that I would fall in love with and wear it on my wedding day. When my parents died, I had no money left, but I couldn't bear to sell the ring for the measly few credits I would have gotten for it. I knew it had to stay in my family line in some way or another.**

  
**After our lie was discovered, I knew right then and there that the ring must go to you. I have no chance at finding another person that I can love more deeply than you, in my future. You are my everything. You gave me a second chance at life, and showed me that I am not as much of a beast as I thought I was. You gave me a chance to feel love for the first time in over a decade. My happiness may be over now, but I will go on in my life knowing that you are going to move on, remain free from trouble that I could have so easily caused you, and have a chance at happiness.**

  
**I want you to keep that ring, Steve. And when you find someone to fall in love with, use it on your wedding day, and live long and happily for the rest of your life. It may not be with me.. we may not really be soulmates after all. But I can go on, knowing that you have the ring and that it will pass into another happy marriage for the years to come. Maybe, in some small way, you'll see the ring and think of me once in awhile. Think of the man you saved from darkness and know that you are a hero. You are a beautiful man, an angel on this earth, and whoever you find that can love you the way you deserve to be loved, you will be blessed with long, joyous years of bliss.**

  
**I'm going to sign off this letter. I have to spend the rest of my evening holding you in my arms, now... give you the proper goodbye you deserve. I love you Steven Grant Rogers. You are my hero, my eternal rose, my beauty.**

  
**Я не буду с вами до конца линии (I'm with you until the end of the line)**

  
**Yasha**

  
Steve's eyes skimmed the paper, again and again. He couldn't stop reading the words on the page, soaking up James' promise to him. He studied them like Gospel, letting his fingers graze over the paper, as if he could feel James' touch through the ink.   
A firm resolve crushed his sorrows, boring a firm determination into him beyond the grief he felt. James actually expected him to move on and stop loving him? It was absurd! "You're a damn jerk, Bucky.." Steve murmured, shaking his head as he pressed a tender kiss to the paper. "You must have taken all the stupid with you." Speaking to the paper as if James could hear him through it, he raised his voice a bit. "I'll keep your ring safe... it's not going anywhere. But there won't be anyone else, Buck. It's you and me, or no one at all. Even if it's in 70 years, I will see you again. And we'll put this ring to proper use. To the end of the line, Bucky."

  
Placing the letter gingerly on the table, Steve curled up on his side. He pressed his hand to the pillow, letting the ring sit in his line of sight and committing his promise to heart and to spirit. He fell asleep that night, the ring still glinting off the firelight in his dreams.

* * *

 

 

 

 The last view of Alaska James had...

 

  The moment you see a man shut down his heart for good.. it looks kind of like this.

 

 "Fuck you." The look of wrath Steve had when Tony opened his big, damn mouth.

 

 Tony, you done deserved that broken nose.

 

 

  Mama Rogers did her best but it just isn't enough.

  And reading James' letter.. Steve is not giving up on him no matter what, no matter how long it takes. He will get James back.

 

 

 

 The ring, well worn and well loved.


	14. Six Months Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months have passed since Steve and James have last seen each other. Both are miserable. Both are alone and wishing they had the other. But will a surprising twist come for the two of them in a way no one ever saw coming?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dudes... IT'S HERE! THE TURN OF THE TIDE FOR THE HAPPY ENDING YOU GUYS SO DESPERATELY NEEDED! I won't waste time making unnecessary notes for you people to read. ONTO THE CHAPTER

Six months later, October 12th, 2015

  
Yasha stumbled up the stairs of his decrepit apartment building, bone-tired and filthy. He wearily reached up and plucked the stocking hat from his head, letting the shaggy locks of hair fall into his eyes as he stuffed the threadbare cap into his coat pocket. As he did, he fished out the key to his little apartment, the jingle of metal echoing oppressively in the hallway of the building. As he passed each door to arrive at his own little hovel, he could hear shouting coming from behind each one: mothers screaming at their children to behave, a man shouting into a phone about a bad deal he'd made underground with a buyer, a young couple yelling to each other about this or that and who slept with who... All that sort of nonsense.

  
This place was not peaceful, but it had turned out to be the only home he could afford. After his deportation, James was no more. He'd left that man behind at the doorstep of Pulkovo International, shed him like a second skin. He'd become Yasha again, and in that transformation, a tired and miserable soul had been born again. In his return to Russia, almost all of his funds had been drained in trying to secure a little hole in the wall to sleep in and garner some sort of updated paperwork to make him legal again in this country. This hell hole, which was the only place in the world that really seemed to want him.

  
He'd tried to get a good job someplace decent, make a bit more money than he was now, but word of his deceit in America, lying to get by, everything... well, it had definitely screwed him over. All of his interviews were for nothing, all of his applications tossed out. The only job he managed to secure was working as a dock hand on the Neva River. Whether he was unloading cargo from the Baltic, or docking river cruise ships for wealthy patrons, Yasha spent hours on that cold river, breaking his back and wondering when he'd get a chance to get on that boat himself and never return. It didn't take long for his writer's hands to become rough and calloused, broken nails, sprained bones and ligaments, and a limp in his step that resulted from hours of stooping and lifting heavy equipment day in and day out. To say the least, Yasha was a mess.

  
He'd thought he'd even lost THIS job when three months into working on the river, Yasha had jammed his arm between the dock and side of a ship, a slip-up that had resulted from three days of no sleep or food, and his exhaustion getting the better of him. The company medic had stitched his arm, from wrist to elbow, shut and sent him on his way home but with no money to his name, the man had had no way to go to a proper hospital. He'd nearly lost the arm, but still he found himself back on the docks the very next day, sweating through his bandages and biting his lips bloody to press on.

  
Yasha leaned his shoulder against the door of his apartment, locking himself inside from the screaming that seemed to surrounding him almost daily. He shrugged out of his coat and hung it up on the peg with little care. He hissed as the action caused his left arm pain and he looked down at the large and ugly red scar on his forearm, jagged from split stitches and still swollen, even three months later. God if only Steve could see him now, disfigured and ruined to the world...

  
"Fuckin' arm..." he cursed the maimed limb, stuffing his hands into his pockets to make for the bathroom and a much needed shower. He passed by a window, staring out at the dirty bricks of the nearby building, and wondering if he had enough cash on him to repair the crack in the glass. But he was too tired to worry about that. Maybe he should make himself some food...

  
Maybe he didn't really care.

  
Yasha couldn't remember the last time he'd had a proper meal. He just didn't fucking care enough to put forth the effort. Rice crackers and room temperature water were his main staple, something he could stuff into his face on the go when he was running late at 4 in the morning to get to work. Anything hot to eat was a luxury, and one he didn't feel he deserved. What did it matter? Six months ago, he'd left his heart behind in Alaska. He didn't have any reason to try anymore.

  
Shrugging out of his oily clothes, Yasha cranked on the shower as hot as the old water heater could manage, and stood naked in front of the mirror as he waited for steam to fill the room. He stared at himself in the reflection, letting his eyes trail over his figure. Bones were sticking out from his ribs and hips, his wiry build only maintained by the grueling work he put in for 14 hours a day. He let his fingers trail over his protruding collarbones, his gaunt cheeks and finally through the dirty, long locks of hair that hung from his head. His hair was nowhere near long enough to pull into a ponytail but definite indicative of a lack of a pair of sheers. He let his gaze travel over the dark circles under his eyes and the littered scars that covered his arms and cheeks. Almost daily, he met with a wayward chain or sharp edges of boxes, crates and cargo containers that nicked him when they could, until he was a patchwork of hard labor he'd never really seen a day of in his life before. Even his skin tone, once olive and healthy, was now sallow from the lack of nutrition. But that one he blamed on himself. Losing Steve that day in April, Yasha realized the last REAL meal he had had been the day before he'd been taken from America. And sadly enough, he'd thrown that up.

  
"Fucking shit.." he cursed, slamming his sore arm down onto the sink top before stepping into the shower to try and wash the oil off of his body. He let his fingers roam across his skin, pretending that they belonged to a certain blond with kind blue eyes, body of a God, and a spirit so bright he still felt the burn in his eyes when he thought of him.

  
A man that he'd not heard from in half a year. By now, Yasha was sure Steve had forgotten all about him. They had had no way to contact each other, and all of his calls back to the office were rejected outright. He'd stopped attempting to call when the international bills piled up at his doorstep like an ugly reminder of his failure.

  
The brunet pressed his forehead against the cold tiles of the bathroom, letting the hot water course over his body in waves. He thought of Steve, thought of everyone he'd left behind and the ring... Goddamn the ring. Yasha wondered if Steve had found someone to be with yet, wondered if he'd gotten married by now and was living happily ever after in New York. He didn't blame him if he did... he just wished he knew, for his own closure, really. Yasha hadn't cried in six months, not even when he'd almost lost his arm to the Neva River.. but the thought of Steve living with another man, laughing and enjoying life freely, with family.. it brought a sting to his eyes.

  
All too soon, the hot water ran out and the shower began to pummel him with icy drops. The frigid air outside, an October chill that hearkened to a bitter Russian winter coming, soaked into his skin and he shut the water off. He rubbed his skin dry with a thin cloth that barely excused itself as a towel, wrapping the thin cover around his waist to make for the bedroom. It was only 7pm, but.. he had to be up at 3 for work. That was his life now. Go to work in the wee hours, return home, MAYBE eat, and then sleep. Day, after day, after day...

  
Dressing in the warmest clothes he could manage Yasha crawled into his tiny bed, grabbing his cell phone from the table and curling up under the blankets with it. He hadn't had service to that device since he'd left New York. There was no reason, considering no one called him but the dock manager, to check if his newest worker was still alive and ready for another day. Even then, he used the land line. But.. he never got rid of it. Somehow, before the device's service had been shut off, Yasha had managed to snag a few pictures of Steve off of social media sites and saved them to the phone's memory. He kept that thing constantly plugged in, his own little archive of happiness to refer back to when the days were particularly hard. Yasha could tell you, in exact detail, what each picture looked like down to the tiniest pixel, but still he looked at those pictures, every single night.

  
Like clockwork, his ritual began, starting at the beginning of the gallery reel and staring at each image of Steve that he had. Some were of his other friends, the group of them laughing and enjoying life with Steve at the center of attention. Some were of the blond alone. He liked them all equally. But as he scrolled, his eyes landed on a black and white photo of the blond, his back pressed against a tree, and his attention diverted off to the side. It had clearly been a hot day when the photo was taken. Steve was only wearing a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt. But as Yasha stared at the image, his eyes landed on Steve's throat. That spot... he remembered leaving a love bite there, marking Steve as his own. Reverently, Yasha let his fingers skim over the glass, wishing he could touch Steve and hold him in his arms again.

  
"I miss you so fucking much, Stevie..." Yasha murmured, his eyes burning and blurring with tears. It was an odd sensation, feeling the wetness in his eyes for the first time in so long. Not that he really cared. If he let them fall, no one would see. Biting his sore, chapped lip, Yasha let himself cry silent tears, wishing and praying that he could see Steve at least one more time. At least for the blond to tell him he'd moved on and found happiness. Vaguely, his mind wandered back to the last time he saw him... saw Steve running alongside the car and screaming for him. Yasha hated himself that he hadn't looked up at Steve when the other begged him to. He'd been too cowardly to meet his gaze. Yet again, something his own damnable self had fucked up. The last face Yasha saw was of Steve crying, begging... pleading that this wasn't going to happen. Not that it did them much good. Six months later, it was clear everything had been in vain.

  
Suddenly, Yasha couldn't look at those images anymore. He shut the screen off and set the phone down onto the table next to him, burying himself in the blankets as he tried not to let himself melt completely. If this is how he was supposed to live his life, alone and depressed, then why the hell was he born at all?

  
"I love you Stevie, but if you've moved on, just... God, give me a sign so I can stop pining for him. Let me move on in peace..." he murmured, closing his eyes and willing sleep to claim him once again. At least in his dreams, he could pretend he was happy with the man that had captivated his soul and rescued him from himself.

  
~*~

  
It had turned out to be a surprisingly cold October in New York. But at least Steve was in his apartment, warm and safe. He'd been in there for days, to be precise. It was easy to do these days... he'd been out of a job for six months, after all.

  
James had tried his best to get Steve promoted, but without their little puppet to use as a front, Pierce and Zola had been quick to deem Steve "unstable" enough to run the office. They'd fired him the same week he'd returned to New York. After word got out that James had attempted to lie his way into the country, it didn't matter what the brunet had said. They saw Steve as an accomplice to attempted treachery and ousted him on the spot. Kicked to the corner, just like James had said.

  
Steve had tried to get another job, he really had. But with his heart lost to nothing but his despair of losing James, his attempts had been lackluster at best. He lived off of unemployment now and whatever his parents could wire to him from Alaska. He was fairly well off, but his sorrow of losing James had taken a heavy toll on him.

  
It was one such day of Steve lazing about his apartment, not really invested in anything particular, when he heard a knock at the door. Wondering if it was his elderly neighbor asking him to fix her broken sink (again. He swore she was just lonely and wanted someone to talk to), Steve hefted himself to his feet and plodded over to the door. He vaguely thought to put shoes on, but he was in his own apartment, dammit. If he wanted to answer the door in sweatpants and an old wifebeater, then by God he would.

  
So he was COMPLETELY unprepared to see Tony standing outside his door, dressed as always in his best suit.

  
Stunned into silence, Steve stared at his old friend for a moment before his eyes narrowed at him. "You got a lot of fucking nerve, Tony. What the hell are you doing here?" He demanded, backing away from him as he held the door in his grip. He was fully prepared to slam that thing in the traitor's face if he had to, knock those stupid fucking sunglasses from his stupid fucking face.

  
"Whoa man, that's not a way to talk to someone trying to help you out." Tony exclaimed, looking up at Steve as if the blond had offended his mother. He pushed his way into the apartment, plucking the sunglasses from his nose and pocketing them. "Seriously, I just showed up. Give me five minutes to properly insult you first."

  
"What the hell could I POSSIBLY want from you, Tony? You already fucked me over trying to 'help' once, what else are you here to tell me?" Steve asked, crossing his arms over his chest. But as he waited for an answer, he watched the shorter man look at his watch, and he frowned. "What are you waiting for?"

  
"Your intervention." Tony said simply. Suddenly, a knock was heard at the door again, and he looked up with a grin. "Oh look, the cavalry's here." He said, grinning up at Steve. When the blond shot him an incredulous look, he waved his hand. "Go on, go take a look. See for yourself."

  
Steve glared him down for a moment before turning for the door. Leery, he took a look through the peephole, and his heart thudded wildly in his chest. "Mom?" He gasped, flinging the door open. There stood his mother, smiling at him and holding her coat in her arms. "Holy shit, mom!" Steve exclaimed, yanking her into a hug. As he did, he looked up to see an entire congregation of people standing outside his door. Natasha, Bruce, Clint, Maria, Sam... even his father and Wade had showed up. And at the very front of the group, Steve caught sight of Peggy standing there in her glory, smiling up at him. "Holy shit.. how the hell did you all get here?"

  
Peggy smiled at him, stepping forward to pull the man into her arms. "That would be Anthony's doing, actually." Peggy murmured, smiling as she looked up at the blond's stunned expression. "When we got word that you weren't doing so well, we all had to come and see you. See if there wasn't something we could all do to make you feel better."

  
Still completely taken aback by their arrival, Steve simply nodded and motioned for everyone to come in. The group filed into the apartment, taking seats where they could. Soon, the entire living room was filled with people, Wade raiding Steve's fridge for drinks for everyone and chattering up a storm. With everyone comfortable and nursing bottles of beer, the focus turned from each other to the man of the hour. Now, Steve really wished he'd thought to take a shower that morning.

  
"So uhm... What are you all doing here?" Steve asked, rolling the bottle in his palms for a moment before taking a drink. If anything, it gave him something to do with his nervous hands. "I mean, what are you all REALLY doing here. Ten people don't fly across the country for a ONE day visit."

  
"This was all Peggy's idea, actually." Sam spoke up, looking to the old woman that sat to Steve's right. He smiled, leaning forward to press his elbows to his knees and regard Steve carefully. "We've been keeping an eye on you from a distance. When your mom said the last time she spoke to you didn't end so well, Peggy suggested we all come over here and see you in person. Tony's wallet made this all possible."

  
"Sam's right." Clint spoke up, leaning back in his seat and smiling at his friend. "You ain't doing so hot over here. We wanna know... really..." he paused, looking at the others. "We wanna know if you wanted to come back home with us. You aren't happy here in New York. We could take care of you, Steve..."

  
Everyone broke out into understanding and agreeing murmurs, eyes locked on Steve as the blond shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Even now, he hated all this attention on him. As he silently mulled over Sam and Clint's words, he plucked his phone out of his pocket, looking at the wallpaper he hadn't changed in six months. James' face still stared out at him, cold and sad and he frowned, closing his eyes. "There's no point." he said quietly. Everyone fell silent, watching him for a moment before he found the words to speak, his fingers grazing over the gold band that still sat reverently on his ring finger. "There's no point in me going back to Alaska. I appreciate the offer you guys, but... it won't be the same. I can't be happy knowing James is out there in Russia, alone and depressed. How can I be happy knowing he's not?"

  
Natasha watched him, scooting closer on her chair until she could touch Steve's knee. "Steve, do you really think James would want you sitting in your apartment alone and sad all the time? He said for you to move on, be happy.. he wouldn't want to see you like this..."

  
"But it's all I deserve. I let him get taken away from me. I judged him and pushed him away for too long and when I finally realized I cared for him, it was too late. How the hell am I supposed to move on when all I want is on the other side of the world?" He asked, looking to his friend sadly. He felt his mother touch his left shoulder and he leaned into the soft fingers, letting them soothe him.

  
As the silence permeated the room, seemingly resigned to leaving Steve miserable and alone in his New York apartment, Peggy suddenly spoke up, her tone firm and commanding. "And who says you have to leave him there?" She asked, looking up at him.

  
Steve blinked, looking down at her for a moment. He wondered, vaguely, if her memory was going on her. "Aunt Peggy... Coulson and Fury were adamant. He's done with America for good. They'll never let him come back."

  
Peggy narrowed her eyes at him, her voice going alarmingly calm. "And have you spoken to them since? Explained the situation to them? If you cared so much for James, you would NOT give up on him. Ever. If you have no intention on going to fetch him and keep him in your clutches then you have no right to pine and wish for him, Steven. That's all there is to it."

The words felt like a punch to the gut and Steve found himself staring at her with a forlorn expression on his features. "But.. Aunt Peggy..."

  
"No Buts! If you are not going to do everything in your God-given power to keep the man you claim to love in your life, then you have no right to sit here in this apartment moping and wishing for him. Nothing is ever set in stone, Steven. Concessions can be made. You just haven't tried hard enough." Peggy said, standing from her seat and staring down at him. Even in her tiny, ancient frame, she was a power of authority and her presence commanded every attention in the room. She glanced down at Sarah, nodding once. Now was the time to bring out the big guns.

  
Sarah nodded in return, extending her hand to her husband. Joe dropped her purse into her hands and smiled at his son, leaning back in his seat to watch his reaction. "Steve, honey... we all knew that you were not doing so well here on your own. So we took matters into our own hands. With Tony's help, we managed to secure these..." Sarah murmured. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out an envelop, fat with papers, and she handed it to Steve. When the blond man gave her a confused look, she simply nodded to the envelope. Everyone in the room leaned forward, eager expressions on their faces as they waited for Steve to open the gift.

  
Confused and a little worried, Steve opened the envelope. He ripped the adhesive away from the paper and opened the flap, looking inside as if expecting something to pop out at him. Nothing did... but what he saw was no less shocking. "What the..." he murmured, plucking the papers out from the envelop.

  
They were round trip plane tickets to St. Petersburg. Enough for all eleven of them to go.

  
Steve stared at the boarding passes in his hands, his heart hammering in his chest. "What the..." he gasped again, looking up at the lot of them expecting them to shout 'surprise' at any moment. "What the hell is this?"

  
Tony stepped forward, looking down at his friend for a moment. "It's an apology... from me to you, for what I did. For six months, while you've been wasting away in this damn apartment, I've been kicking myself stupid for everything. Aunt Peggy was right... it may have been lawfully correct, but I ruined two people's lifes with my stupid, hairbrained ideas. And I want to make it up to you. I approached Peggy about it, and she planted the idea in my head. I worked a few favors but uhm... I know a few people in the flight industry and got us passes to The Motherland to get Bucky back. We're all gonna go with you to St. Petersburg..." he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a final envelope. He handed it to Steve, urging him to open it. When he did, Tony watched Steve's face melt from shock to disbelief. It was a twelfth ticket, this time a one way ride back to New York from Pulkovo International Airport. "They are completely refundable... just in case you get some crazy, shit-head idea to NOT go and get the love of your life back. But you have to make a decision right now..." he looked down at his watch and smiled. "We have an appointment to speak to Mr. Coulson in 45 minutes about rescinding the ban James has on his head."

  
The shock was too much for Steve to handle. He looked down at the tickets in his hand, holding them reverently as if they were made of gold and he swallowed. Did he really have a chance to get Bucky back... It seemed too good to be true. "But.. what if Coulson doesn't agree?" he asked, wondering when exactly the catch was going to come up and bite him in the ass.

  
"Don't you worry about Coulson, I got one more Ace up my sleeve if he seems even the slightest bit hesitant about letting him come back." Tony said, tapping the side of his nose with a grin.

  
Wade piped up, dropping down next to the couch to look up at Steve. "Please, Stevie! Please say yes! We want him back almost as much as you do! I mean, not the same as you do, I'm pretty sure no one else here wants to sleep with him, but you know what I mean! Please say yes! You're miserable without him, and a miserable Steve is a no way!" Wade begged him, looking up at the man before him, with huge puppy eyes. "We're all here for you, but Bucky's got no one. You said so yourself, he needs you more than anything..."

  
Steve listened to them all, the murmurs of agreement reaching a crescendo until everyone before him was urging the blond to follow his heart. What the hell was he doing? He almost let Bucky go once before when he nearly drowned in the lake... and all because he was too scared of his own feelings to speak his mind and follow his heart. Wade was right. Tony was right. Peggy was right. Bucky needed him. And like hell was he going to let him go again. Expression hardening into determination, he stood from his seat and looked down at them all. "Let me go get dressed. We have an appointment to make." he said. As he turned for the bedroom to change, the cheers that rose up behind him with his decision had a smile crossing his face for the first time since he'd said goodbye to Bucky.

  
~*~

  
The group of them stormed into the Immigration office, gangbusters and ready for action, with Steve and Peggy at the forefront of the group. The entire office fell silent around them, looking up at the lot of them as if expecting an invasion. Not to be deterred, Steve stepped forward to the desk and slapped down the letter Tony had given him from Coulson's office. "I'm here to speak to Mr. Coulson. We ALL are." He said, eyeing the red-headed receptionist up as she looked down at the letter. The woman frowned, scrutinizing him for a moment before standing.

  
"All of you won't fit in his office. Bring only who you need to speak with him." She said, her tone low and professional.

  
Steve looked back at his friends and family and thought for a moment. Who would be most beneficial to this endeavor, to make it a reality? They had already decided that Tony was to join him in the office. After all, he was his winning horse in this race against time. After a moment's deliberation, Steve nodded. "Mom... Aunt Peggy... I want you two to come with me." He said, pointing at them. "The rest of you stay out here. We'll be back soon, OK?"

  
Everyone nodded in understanding, taking seats around the waiting room as the three of them stepped forward. Steve looked back at the receptionist and nodded. "These are who will join me."

  
The woman eyed up the four of them one last time before relenting. "Alright. This way please." she murmured, turning and leading them to the back of the office. Steve felt the eyes of the others on him and he straightened his shoulders, head held high in confidence as he followed her to the office. This was going to be a breeze, he told himself. He just needed to be confident, that's all. At least he really hoped so...

  
All too soon, the four of them sat in Coulson's office, waiting for the man to arrive for their meeting. The familiarity of this office struck a chord in him and he grew restless as they waited for Coulson to arrive. He leaned forward in his seat, staring at the desk as he nervously twiddled his thumbs. To his side, Peggy reached out and touched his shoulder, getting the man to look up at her. When he did, she offered him a reassuring smile. "It's all going to be OK, Stevie. You'll see." she murmured, her old fingers squeezing his shoulder before letting go. Behind her, Sarah stood, her hands resting on the back of Peggy's chair as she watched her son. Meanwhile, Tony perused the office, his hands stuffed protectively in his pockets as he waited. All in all, the atmosphere was... not calm.

  
Minutes passed for the group as they waited anxiously for Coulson to arrive. When another five rolled by with no sign of him, Steve got up from his seat and began to pace the room. "Tony, when do those tickets have to be used by?" he asked nervously, looking up at his friend for clarification.

  
"Relax, hero-man. They can be used at any time. They are just open boarding passes. Trust me, I thought of everything." He said, grinning at him before waving him down. "Sit, you're gonna make us all nervous."

  
Steve sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment to collect himself. When he had, he sat back down, rubbing his hands on his knees to quell the nervous tick he felt. It seemed to do the trick for at least a few minutes. But just as he began to feel the twinges of anxiety rising up again, the door opened. He looked up to see Coulson standing in the doorway, looking at the small congregation before him. "Well, this is definitely a surprise. My secretary didn't tell me who was meeting me today." He said, his eyes landing on Steve. "Mr. Rogers. Well, this is interesting." He murmured, his smile knowing as he made his way into the room and sat down at his desk. "What can I help you with, today?"

  
Steve found his words leaving him as he watched the man coolly sit before him, ready to win this argument laid before him. Steeling himself, Steve sat forward in his seat and met the man's gaze with as much conviction as he could before speaking. "Mr. Coulson, I'm here to speak to you about James Barnes' rejected applications for citizenship into the U.S."

  
"How did I know that this was where this conversation was headed..." Coulson sighed, rubbing his hand over his jaw for a moment before shaking his head. "I told you before, Mr. Rogers... LONG before this whole affair started. If James was found guilty for his crimes, then all future applications for citizenship will be denied. He tried to lie his way into the country. If you think some sort of plea for forgiveness would make a difference, have you any clue how many people would manage to get into the country on a whim? Too many, I might add. I'm sorry, but you're wasting your time here. James Barnes cannot come back to America."

  
Steve listened, feeling his stomach dropping out from under him. Dammit, if this is how his efforts were going to end, he didn't know what he was going to do with himself. "You don't understand. James is alone and scared over there. He had nothing to go back to when he left America, and for all we know, he could be suffering over there right now. I have to go get him. Please. I swear, when this whole thing started it was a ruse, but... we actually really wanted to marry each other. We were happy together. It's been six months. Can't we just... I don't know, say he's served his sentence and learned his lesson.. please."

  
Coulson listened to Steve for a moment, letting the man ramble before him. When he fell silent with his plea, Coulson looked away from him, sighing heavily. Damn his bleeding heart. As much as he wanted to help, there just was no way... "Steve. There's nothing I can do. My hands are tied on the subject. As far as the United States of America is concerned, James Barnes is perpetually banned from the country."

  
Steve lowered his gaze to the floor, letting his hands go limp in his lap. The gold ring glinted wearily on his finger, a stark reminder of what he lost and could not get back, even in the face of a chance so close he could almost feel it. And yet... it just wasn't to be. What was the point of getting so excited for? He had known, rationally, that this was all for nothing. He was not going to get past the United States government to get James back... He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up at his mother, offering her a weak and sad smile. End of the line, it seemed... "I'm sorry I dragged you all out here." he murmured, reaching up and pressing his hand to hers. He felt her fingers wrap around his and give him a promising squeeze. "This was a waste of time. I'm sorry..."

  
"It wasn't a waste of time, baby. It was worth the try." She murmured, looking up and glaring at the man that was hurting her baby so badly. "Mr. Coulson, do you know what it feels like to know that the one person you love more than anything has been ripped away from you, and all you want is to have them back? Do you have any idea what that's like?" She asked, her tone accusing as she stepped up to Steve's side. "Steve had to watch the man he loved get thrown out of the country with nothing he could do. And now he can't even contact him. How fair do you think that is that there isn't a SINGLE thing that can be done?"

  
Coulson looked up at the woman and frowned, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "To your first question, madame... YES I do know what it's like to love someone and have to watch them walk away for good. I do know that kind of pain." He murmured. Mind wandering to the past, Coulson thought of a beautiful woman and her cello, and a serene sort of calm washed over him. Relaxing a bit, he spoke again. "And I am sorry that he had to watch James get deported, but unless you'd like to go toe-to-toe with the Government yourself, then by all means... take the reins."

  
"What if no one has to do that?" A voice piped up. All eyes turned from the two angry adults to Tony, who stood in the back corner staring down at his phone. His eyes were alight with resolution, and a huge smile of mischief was plastered across his face. When he looked up, he noticed everyone staring at him and he smirked. "Don't you all go jumping to ask what I mean by that at once now..."

  
"Tony, what are you getting at?" Steve asked, turning in his seat to look at his friend head on.

  
The brunet shrugged a shoulder, still staring at his phone as he stepped up to the desk. When he was sidelong with the agent, he held his phone out to him, letting Coulson read the text on the phone screen. Giving the man plenty of time to read over his phone, Tony just smiled at the others in the room and winked at them. When Coulson leaned back in his seat, he shrugged. "I see you. I see you're a man of sympathy and understanding, and I see that you are bleeding your heart out for this tragic love story. Clearly, you've lost someone you loved and cared for very deeply just like Steve has, so consider this: Don't let another person feel that same kind of pain you have. You have more power than you realize... you just have to know how to deal with the obstacle laid before you. Life is not always a black and white scenario to deal with. You have to work with the gray areas too."

  
Steve blinked at his friend, confused as to what the hell he was getting at. "Tony, you're not exactly making sense to everyone who can't see your phone.' He sighed, rubbing his temples for a moment and waiting for the elusive explanation.

  
Tony shrugged, setting his phone down, while Coulson mulled over his words. "Coulson, you said James Barnes was not allowed back into the country... but you also said that James did not fill out his Visa paperwork correctly, ergo making James Barnes not a legal member of American society at any point in time. James Barnes doesn't exist. However... YASHA Barnes, officially never left the country of Russia. YASHA Barnes never filled out his paperwork to come to America, so therefore YASHA Barnes never broke any rules. See what I'm getting at?"

  
The room fell silent. Steve felt his heart thudding wildly in his chest as he realized what Tony was implying. Oh God, he could fucking KISS him right now for this genius! A huge smile crossed his face as he looked over at Coulson. To his delight, the man did not look upset. In fact, he looked understanding, even plotting on how this could work. He began to wring his hands nervously in his lap, waiting for the final verdict of this whole thing to come to light.

  
Coulson sat in his chair, staring down at the screen in front of him for a moment before pushing the phone back towards Steve and the two women. They all three gasped in surprise when they saw the page pulled up on the screen. It wasn't a form, or anything legal, really... just the seeds of inspiration. It was a website for an International Marriage Agency. "Everyone, I've just discovered that there may have been an error in our office. This... James Barnes..." he said, plucking up James' file from the "rejected" stack and holding it up. "This James Barnes doesn't exist and a mistake was made in our office. I do apologize for this misunderstanding." he murmured. With that, Coulson tore the file in half and tossed it into his waste basket. "I understand, Steve Rogers, that you have been communicating with this... Yasha Barnes, from St. Petersburg for some time now via the internet and wish to bring him back to the United States to marry. Is that correct?"

  
He couldn't believe it. Steve couldn't fucking believe it. A huge, elated smile crossed his features and he began to bounce in his seat, buzzing with excitement. To his side, Peggy and Sarah were giggling between each other, watching the two men as they spoke. "Yes... Yes, I have been. I really.. really want to go to Russia and bring him back here."

  
Coulson smirked, looking down at his desk drawer. He pulled out two forms, stapling them together and handing them to Steve. "These are your forms. A K-3 Spouse application and an Entry Visa for non-citizen immigrants. Fill these out IMMEDIATELY when you see him and bring him back. I will expedite Yasha's status to Lawful Permanent Resident, but you two MUST get married immediately upon returning to New York. I don't care if it is a courthouse wedding. Call me as soon as you return and I will be there to oversee the wedding and get him his permanent residency. Finally, those forms must be filled out as YASHA Barnes, or this will all be for nothing. Do you understand me?"

  
Steve thought he was going to cry. His eyes burned with unshed tears and he nodded vigorously, standing from his seat and extending his hand to the agent across from him. But when Coulson stood and went to shake his hand, no... Steve realized that a handshake wasn't enough. Instead, he leaned over the desk and pulled the man into a tight hug, eager for this one and only chance he was given to bring his soulmate back home. "Thank you... thank you so much." He murmured, grinning stupidly.

  
Coulson blinked, feeling just the tiniest bit awkward about the man hugging him so thoroughly. But he smiled in return anyway and patted the blond on the back before pulling away from him. "Now get out of my office, all four of you. You need to get to Russia and see to it that this is taken care of. I can only hold this promise for a few days. So hurry."

  
Steve nodded, thanking him again and again as they left the office. When the door closed, Steve turned to Tony, the brunet grinning wolfishly up at him. "How the hell did you know..."

  
Tony shrugged, looking down at his phone for a moment. "I browse the internet A LOT... and I know how to be sheisty when I need to be. You know that, Steve." Clapping the taller man on the shoulder, he smirked. "C'mon... we have a plane to catch. All of us."

  
Steve just grinned at him and yanked Tony into a tight bearhug, pressing a grateful kiss to his temple. "You're a damn genius, Tony Stark."

  
Tony awkwardly pulled free from Steve's grip and held his hands up. "Ok, no need for that. Save the kisses for Yasha, alright?" Gesturing to the waiting room, Tony marched on ahead, calling over his shoulder. "C'mon! We gotta tell the others!"

  
The blond watched his friend make his way for the waiting room, ready to tell the others of their success. Feeling lighter than he had in years, Steve looked back at his mother and Peggy, grinning from ear to ear. "You were right, Aunt Peggy... you were right the whole time."

  
Peggy simply smiled at him and leaned up to wrap her arms around his neck and hug him close. "You don't get to be my age, Steve, and not learn how to have faith in even the impossible. Don't worry, it comes with time." Looking up at him, the old woman winked. "Now... let's go get your Russian Mail-order Bride and bring him home..."

* * *

 

Not many notes this time, just wanted to show you how poor off Bucky ended up.

Cue six months later Bucky. He's looking rather thin and sickly isnt he?:

 

Dat shaggy hair though...

 

And the scar on his arm that I was referring to: 

 

I know, wrong arm but you get the idea.

 

And finally, the photo Yasha had on his old phone: 

TO BE CONTINUED OMFG SO CLOSE TO THE END....

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I MAY have suspended some minor disbelief to get this legal crap to work, but c'mon. You all know you wanted a happy ending to this. ;)


	15. Come Home, Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yasha has no idea that Steve has come to Russia to rescue him. When they do meet, the truth of Steve's plan comes to light, and the Proposal is given. This time, the right way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG GUYS WE'RE SO CLOSE TO THE END, I'M GONNA CRY!!!! 
> 
> NOT GONNA WASTE YOUR TIME WITH NOTES. GET TO THE CHAPTA! GET TO THE CHAPTA, NAOW!!!!

The weather had taken a turn for the worse. Yasha ducked his head from the wind whipping across the river surface, feeling the frigid cold stinging his cheeks until they went numb. His eyes watered with the cold and he coughed, reaching up and pulling his hat down further over his head as the men around him shouted. Today was a particularly stressful day for the lot of them. Huge cargo shipments had come in from the Baltic, and most of them were covered in a light sheen of frost, making their grip on the metal containers slippery and finger-numbing.

  
Unable to grip the boxes with his gloves on, Yasha sighed in defeat as he pulled his hands free from their covers. Almost instantly, his fingers froze as he picked up one end of the container, hefting it into the air as his partner did the same. They slowly shuffled their way across the docks, trying in vain to keep from slipping every so often. The metal edges cut into his frozen palms, making Yasha grit his teeth in pain from the sheer weight of the metal slicing into his flesh.

  
Finally, after what seemed like forever, the two of them made it to the loading bay, where they set the box down with a metallic 'clang'. Exhausted, Yasha leaned his shoulder against the metal crate for a moment, trying to get his breath back. He felt light headed and a little shaky, exacerbated by the heavy workload they had. The poor man had overslept that night, and woken up with just minutes to spare before he had to be at the docks. He'd managed to clock in only 7 minutes late for his shift, but the foreman had made absolutely sure to chew his ear out for his tardiness, sending him out onto the waterfront, with the other, more experienced men.

  
Running late, exhausted, and no food in his system, Yasha felt just shy of fainting on the spot, but the bitter cold did well to keep him conscious for the time being. Rallying his efforts, Yasha shoved his way off of the crate and stumbled back out into the cold wind to heft yet another heavy crate inside.

  
This went on for a few hours, and with each box, Yasha felt more and more dead on his feet. Finally, just shy of 2pm, Yasha's legs gave out on him, sending him and a (luckily) smaller box to the ground with a crash. He could hear shouting all around him as men surrounded him, hoisting him to his feet and dragging him from the docks into the offices. With little care, they plopped him down into a chair, slumping him against the rigid back before leaving him to his fate with the foreman.

  
Too tired to care what the hell was happening to him, Yasha just slumped against the chair as he watched the foreman enter the room and stare him down. Casting bloodshot eyes up at him, Yasha offered up a weak smile to the man before he found his discharge papers being shoved under his nose without a word. Yasha stared down at the papers in front of him, feeling his chest caving in with disappointment. Fired. Of course he was fired. Clearly, this asshole was looking for any excuse to fire Yasha, and today's bungle of dumping a small crate's worth of textiles across a frozen dock was the last straw this man needed to oust him.

  
Too frustrated and weak to fight back, Yasha simply signed off on his discharge papers and clambered up from his seat. He gave the man a weak salute, ignoring his words as he stumbled from the office and towards the locker room to fetch his things. He kept his head ducked from the prying eyes of other dock workers who watched him make his way out of the room. Clearly, word of his termination traveled quickly... either that, or everyone knew it was going to happen before he even did. Whatever. Yasha didn't care anymore. He'd just go home... get some sleep, and then hit the streets again for another job in the morning.

  
Plucking his stocking hat from his head, he balled the thin fabric up and stuffed it into his pocket, stumbling through the door of the locker room and making for his tiny storage space. He thumbed the latch open and pulled the door open, his drooping eyes gazing over the bare shelves inside. He really only had to get his wallet and keys out...  
But when his eyes landed on a glint of gold, Yasha froze. He stared at the glittering thing in his locker for a moment, his heartbeat ramping up as he felt his breath catching in his throat. "What the..." he murmured, reaching a gloveless hand into the locker and plucking it up.

  
God... his ring. How the hell did his ring get here? For a brief moment, Yasha wondered if this was some sick prank someone decided to throw on his head as a parting gift. But the longer he looked at the ring, the more he realized those markings were far too familiar to be coincidence. Heart hammering loudly in his chest, Yasha turned to the door of the locker room, spying one of the other workers passing the door, and he called out to him. "Hey! Who left this ring in here?" He asked, not caring in the slightest if he had to make one of these cro-magnons have to speak English. Served 'em right.

  
The man stopped, looking up at Yasha for a moment before mustering up the proper response. "Don't know.. yellow-haired man. He put in just moments ago." he grunted, waving Yasha away before disappearing down the hallway.

  
Heart beating a frantic staccato in his chest, Yasha felt his face draining of color, and his head swimming. "Stevie.." he gasped, looking up at the door for a moment before palming the ring. He grabbed his wallet and keys from the locker and bolted from the room, ignoring the ever growing vertigo that was washing over his head as he pushed and shoved his way from the building out onto the lot of the warehouse.

  
Standing in the frigid cold air, Yasha spun on his heel, trying to spot a lone American in the throng of Russians. For a brief moment, he wondered if Steve had so cruely come all the way here just to give him his ring back without saying a word. A clutch of grief washed over him at the thought and he felt his eyes stinging with tears as he looked down at the ring in his palm. But just when he'd resigned himself to another one of God's awful pranks... he heard it.

  
"Bucky!" A voice called over the cold wind, making him whirl in his spot. Almost immediately, Yasha's eyes landed on the figure of Steve, and he felt his breath catch in his chest. God, Steve never looked better. Just as gorgeous as he had been the day he'd last seen him, Steve stood just a few yards away from him, decked out in a thick coat and boots, his blond hair wind-tossed and his cheeks stung pink from the cold. There was ONE difference, Yasha found himself drawn to. It seemed that during his time apart from the blond, Steve had begun to let a beard fill in. It was still thin, as if he'd just not shaved for a few days. But it was a strikingly good look on the blond... he still looked radiant in all of his glory, and Yasha had no idea how many times he could fall in love with this man all over again.

  
He couldn't believe it. Steve was really here. His heart wouldn't stop racing in his chest and the flutters of excitement he felt were washing over him in tidal waves, making his head feel fuzzy with nerves. A weak smile crossed his lips as he saw Steve approach him, a tunnel vision of attention solely on Steve's face. Yasha took a few tentative steps forward, but suddenly found the ground swaying out from under himself. He vaguely heard a yelp from somewhere in front of him, and wondered briefly who was crying out.  
Something tight was wrapped around him and he blinked his eyes open. Huh. How'd he get down here? Yasha found his eyes tracking sluggishly across the cloudy sky above him until they landed on a pair of worried blue eyes. It took him far too long to realize he was laying on the ground, draped across Steve's lap, and that tension wrapped around him was Steve's arms, enveloping him and shielding him from the cold. "Steve.. what happened?" He asked, hating the way his voice croaked in his throat.

  
"You just fainted." Steve said, his voice laced with panic as he looked him over. "Jesus, the foreman wasn't kidding when he said you were walking death." Brushing his fingers along Yasha's jaw, he felt the sharp cut of his bone through the thin, chapped skin, and his noticeably thinner cheeks. "Christ, when was the last time you ate anything?" Steve asked, his fingers ghosting over Yasha's skin in tender strokes.

  
Yasha blinked, looking up at him in confusion before his sluggish mind clicked into place. "Oh.. I.. I don't know. Rent here is rather... high, and I don't... didn't make much working on the docks."

  
"Fucking hell." Steve murmured, wrapping his arms around Yasha's waist and helping him sit up. "C'mon. We're getting food in you. Now." He barely gave Yasha a chance to protest before he was helping him to his feet and wrapping his arm around his waist. Half-hobbling, the two of them made their way from the freezing docks into the heart of St. Petersburg, drawing quite the many curious and disapproving eye from passers-by as they wandered into town. Clearly, a dock hand being helped off of the freezing water by a tourist wasn't too proud to look upon. Yasha felt those prying eyes on him and he tried to shy out of Steve's grip.

  
"Steve... let go of me. People are staring." Yasha murmured, almost successfully prying his way out of Steve's arms. But the moment his support was gone, he felt his knees buckling underneath him and he groaned, another head rush washing over him until his vision grew fuzzy around the edges.

  
"Fuck 'em, and let 'em stare. You need help, and I'm not letting you walk by yourself. You can barely stand up. Fucking HELL, why didn't you get any help from anyone?!" Steve asked, looking down at Yasha with huge, worried eyes. His fingers tightened around Yasha's waist as he pulled him closer, dragging him into the nearest restaurant. It wasn't posh, but definitely upper class and well-kept. His blue eyes scanned the sparsely populated location before he found the owner and waved her over. "My friend needs food and someplace to warm up! Please!"

  
Yasha flinched at the raised voice and he looked down at the floor, despising his appearance right now. The owner gave him a scrutinizing look, but instead of throwing them out like she could have, the old woman simply gestured to a table by the door, muttering something under her breath about the 'stink' coming off of Yasha and going to the kitchen to fetch the hungry man a tray of food. He kept his eyes locked on the ground as he felt Steve lowering him into the chair. He didn't look up once as he heard the second chair scraping across the floor until Steve was seated next to him at his left. "Steve.. what the hell are you doing? I don't have any money on me. I can't be in here."

  
"Like hell, you can't be in here. I have money. They can't turn us away if I have the cash on me." Steve said, his voice hard with determination. Gingerly, the blond reached up and plucked Yasha's coat from his shoulders, draping the heavy, dirty cloth over the back of the chair before looking down at him. "You look like hell. What the fuck happened after you left?"

  
Yasha didn't look u at him, instead, he tried his damn hardest not to touch the pristine white tablecloth with his dirty hands. He still had oil underneath his fingernails for God's sake. "When I got back here... no one would hire me in anything more than manual labor. I took the job at the docks because it was close to my apartment and could easily walk to work, but the rent was raised after the first month." He murmured, shrugging a shoulder at him. He gingerly lifted his arm to brush the long hair from his eyes, and hissed. Clearly, when he'd fallen earlier, he'd aggravated the swollen scar on his forearm and he cursed under his breath. After a moment, he tenderly tugged the sleeve of his shirt down over his scar, having not the courage to meet Steve's stunned expression. Yeah, he'd definitely spotted that permanent mark on his arm. "I got hurt at the docks... the uh... medic did his best to stitch it up. I think it's part of why I was fired today. Arm's not been the same since."

  
"Fuck.." Steve murmured, staring at the scar on Yasha's arm for a moment. Gingerly, he reached out and brushed his fingers over the scar on his arm, trying desperately to soothe all of Yasha's past pains with that touch. "Oh Bucky... Bucky, I'm so sorry this happened to you." he murmured, looking up at the brunet with a mask of sorrow on his features.

  
Yasha didn't want to hear that pity in his voice. Steve had no reason to sound like that. Yasha had gotten everything he'd deserved out of his lie, and to be frank, he didn't really think he deserved anything less. As he stared at the blond, Yasha felt his own insecurities welling up his chest and he looked down at himself. His thin, dirty self, decked in torn and oily clothing from the docks,and shaggy hair unkempt and rough tickling his forehead. He offered Steve a weak smile, letting his own fingers graze over the blond's wrist, hidden under the cover of the table. "How did you get here? How did you find me?"

  
Steve smiled, pulling back just enough for decency's sake as the old woman returned, carrying a tray. On the tray was a cup of Sorrel soup, and next to it, a plate with some spare cuts of beef from an earlier prepared stew, a large Knish dumpling and a cup of weak but hot tea. She set the tray down in front of Yasha, giving him a disapproving once over before demanding her pay from Steve. She took the bills from him and flounced off, not once looking back at the two of them. Steve watched her go, shaking his head. "You were right. This place is a dump."

  
Yasha snorted slightly, staring down at the food (much more food than he'd had in one sitting in a very long time) and he shrugged. "They don't really like dock hands coming into posh establishments like this. Sullies the atmosphere, you know."

  
Steve chuckled, pushing a spoon closer to Yasha and giving him a nod. "Eat... please. You're worrying me."

  
Yasha simply nodded, picking up the spoon and taking a few tentative sips of the warm broth. "You still didn't tell me how you got here. Or why." He stopped eating long enough to reach into his pocket. After a moment, he pulled his fist free, holding the gold ring out to Steve. "Nice little calling card you left for me, by the way."

  
Steve simply smiled at him, reaching up and taking his wrist in his hand. "Eat first... then we're going to have a long talk."

  
~

  
By the time Yasha had worked his way through the entire tray of food, his color had returned to his skin and he felt far more energetic than he had in a long time. The two of them left the establishment together, fighting the urge to take each other's hands as they walked. Yasha had slipped the ring back into his pocket for safekeeping, though he kept his hand in the little pouch the duration of their walk. He relished the feeling of the metal against his palm again, and a sort of calm washed over him as he walked. Without the stress of worrying about the docks, and knowing Steve was at his side once again, Yasha felt a little more at peace with the world.

  
When they'd left the main streets of St. Petersburg, Yasha stopped in an alleyway, plucking out a cigarette from his pocket and an old, decrepit lighter. He lit the cherry of the cigarette and quietly dragged on it, letting the smoke fill his lungs. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Steve giving him a disapproving look, and he shrugged. "They're expensive. I only have one on very special occasions. I think this constitutes one of those moments."

  
"You just fainted in the middle of a dock and ate real food for the first time in months. Somehow I doubt nicotine is a very good idea right now." Steve murmured. This time, instead of letting Yasha finish the cigarette, he plucked it free from his fingers and tossed it onto the wet ground. Ignoring Yasha's protests, Steve stamped out the cigarette and looked up at him. "No. You don't need them. Please."

  
Yasha sighed, staring up at the sky for a moment before waving his hand. "Fine. You still haven't told me why you're here." he added. Looking at the blond, Yasha leveled him with a curious glance, his icy eyes boring into him for a moment before he took a small step closer to the blond. "If there's something you flew all the way across the world to tell me, just... tell me. The anticipation is killing me." When Steve hesitated, Yasha groaned, turning away from him. "You have no idea how hard it is to keep from throwing myself at you and kissing you stupid right now. But we CAN'T, and you're not making it easy for me to be patient. So just spill, Steve!" Still, the blond did not say anything. The longer Yasha looked at him, waiting for his answer, the longer he truly believed that Steve had flown all the way across the damn ocean and most of a continent to tell him all bets were off and he was simply returning the ring. Clearly, mailing it to him was out of the question, considering Yasha had had no way to give him an address. Feeling his chest tightening, the brunet looked away from him, staring at the ground. "If you came here to tell me you found someone else, or are done with me... then just spit it out and say it, Steve."

  
That shook Steve from his silence. He looked up at Yasha with wide eyes, his mouth gaping open. "Where the hell did you get that idea from? I wouldn't fly all the way to Russia to tell you I moved on!"

  
"Then what is it you're not telling me?!" Yasha demanded, stepping up to the blond. "Why did you fly all the way here. Just to see me one last time? If that's the case, very romantic move of you Steve, but nothing's changing. I still can't go back with you. Fury saw to that."

  
Steve sighed, looking up at the murky sky above them. "Would you stop for a moment?" He asked, looking down at the brunet. The two of them fell into silence for a moment before Steve cast a glance over his shoulder. They were far enough into the alley, they wouldn't be seen right away by anyone. Taking the opportunity while he could, Steve grabbed Yasha by the shoulders. He pulled him flush, pressing the shorter man's back against the wall. He dove in for a hungry kiss, lips clashing in a desperation quenched after over half a year's separation. Steve dug his fingertips into Yasha's shoulders, pulling him close as he kissed him, dominating the brunet. He relished the feeling of Yasha melting into his touch, kissing him back with equal fervor, until they were both panting and lips swollen. Pulling back from the kiss, Steve pressed his forehead to the shorter man's meeting his gaze. "Take me to see your parents."

  
Yasha blinked his eyes open, still stunned by the kiss he'd just been swept up into. He stared up at Steve for a moment, trying to comprehend what he'd just said. When he finally did, Yasha nodded, fervently, and pulled back. "Yeah.. sure. They'd love to meet you." he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. He didn't really know why, but the thought of Steve being so interested in seeing his parents' graves meant more to him than anything in a very long time. He briefly threaded their fingers together, giving Steve's cold hand a squeeze before letting go and leading him to the mouth of the alleyway. "It's just a few blocks away. Come with me."

  
The blond nodded in return, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he followed the brunet from the alleyway. The two walked together in companionable silence towards the cemetery. By now, the skies had opened up to reveal tiny little flecks of snow scattering the streets below. Shying closer to Steve's side, Yasha kept his head down as they walked, the two of them side by side as they made their way down the sidewalk together.

  
After a few moments of silently walking together, Yasha found his voice again. He looked up at Steve, offering him a small smile. "You look good... really good. The beard thing is really working well for you." he smirked a little, looking down at the ground. "I like it a lot on you. You should keep it." Inhaling slowly, Yasha then turned to more.. important matters. "I take it the company is treating you well?"

  
Steve stiffened at his side, looking down at the ground. "I'm not at Pierce Publishing anymore. Haven't been since you left." He murmured. He shied closer to Yasha, bumping elbows companionably with him before offering him a weak smile. "It's alright, though. Wasn't the same without you there."

  
Yasha sighed, looking down at the ground before he could speak again. "They brought back Zola didn't they? Made him Chief Editor. I knew that slippery fuck would get his way in the end." he grumbled. He gently reached out and touched Steve's hand with the back of his knuckles. "I'm sorry Steve. I really tried to get them to promote you."

  
"I know you did, baby." Steve murmured, looking down at Yasha before offering him a reassuring smile. "I mean it though... it wouldn't have been the same there, without you. I'm glad I'm not there anymore. Now I just need to find another job, then I'm set."

  
Yasha smiled a little, their knuckles brushing every so often as they walked. The wind turned bitter, whipping across the two of them and he shuddered, inching closer to Steve's side. "Yeah... same here, I guess. After today, guess I'll be pounding the pavement, looking for another job too."

  
As the two of them approached the entrance of the cemetery, Yasha found himself asking the inevitable question. He steeled himself, inhaling sharply to quell his nerves before he could blurt out the question. "How long are you going to be in Russia for? Maybe... Maybe you can come back with me to my place? It's not much but.. you won't have to pay for a hotel room." he offered, smiling weakly at him.

  
Steve shook his head, looking down at Yasha. "I can't stay. The tickets I received were last minute, so I have to leave by tonight." he murmured, offering Yasha a small smile.  
Yasha felt his heart crack in his chest, wide open and a raw wound. But he wasn't about to let Steve see the hurt it caused him, and he plastered on a grin. "Oh. Well that was a short vacation wasn't it?" He said, his voice hollow and gutted. Unable to look at Steve a moment longer, Yasha's steps quickened as he pulled ahead of him. Now, a sort of anger washed over the brunet as he wandered into the cemetery. Who in their right mind, fell in love with a person, and flew across the fucking WORLD, just to spend a few brief hours with a man they claimed to love? That wasn't caring. That was torture in its finest form. Yasha, frustrated and disappointed, kicked a pebble off of the path and into the cold grass, watching it roll away from him as he wandered up to the plot of land his parents were buried within.

  
"Bucky! Wait!" Steve called, clearing having picked up on the brunet's upset. He jogged up after him and grabbed his elbow, stopping him. "Stop running away from me. I had to see you. I mean it. I haven't seen anyone else since the day you left, and I don't WANT to see anyone else. I'm sorry.. what I said earlier came out wrong." he said, biting his lip. Steve looked about the cemetery for a moment, noting that they were blissfully alone. Looking down at the upset brunet before him, Steve, pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around him. The blond smiled a little when he finally felt Yasha return the hug to him, holding him close.

  
The two of them didn't move for the longest time. Instead, Yasha wrapped his arms around Steve's waist, holding him close. Soaking up each other's warmth, the two men held onto each other for dear life, allowing exhausted tears to form in their eyes. Even if it was just briefly, the two of them relished the warmth, the comfort they felt in each other's arms. "I'm sorry Steve." Yasha murmured, looking up at him. "That wasn't fair of me. I know.. I know it had to be hard for you to come out here just to see me. I'm grateful, I really am. I just don't understand why you decided to fly all the way out here, just for a few hours. It's not like it's an easy commute to meet up for tea or whatever, whenever we feel like it. We're talking an ocean and an entire government standing in our way."

  
Steve looked down at his lover, offering him a weak smile. He brushed his fingers along the pink cheek before him, relishing the feeling of Yasha's skin against his fingertips. "Seeing you for a few hours was better than never seeing you again." he said simply, his smile softening. "You're just as beautiful as the last time I saw you..."

  
Yasha snorted, looking down at himself. "No I'm not. Skinny, dirty, covered in scars. That scar on my arm? That's just the tip of the iceberg. I'm covered in them now, like little... stupid freckles I never wanted on my body. I look like hell, Steve..."

  
"And I don't care." Steve murmured. Reaching down, he grabbed Yasha's left wrist, lifting his arm. Tenderly, the blond pushed Yasha's sleeve up to the elbow, staring at the long, prominent scar on his arm. "This isn't ugly. This is a part of you now, and I love every part of you, no matter how disgusting you seem to think it is. It's just a scar, Bucky. It's a symbol that you had everything taken from you, and you still survived." Steve paused, looking down at him before grinning. "Though, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna have to be more vigilant about making sure you get your 3 square a day."

  
Yasha smirked, looking down at the ground between them. With the tension broken between them, he suddenly remembered why they were here. After a moment, Yasha met the blond's gaze again, his breath catching in his throat. "You wanted to meet my parents..." he murmured. Gesturing down at the ground, he pointed to the grave markers, his smile softening to a broken hearted grimace. "Hi mama.. papa." He murmured.

  
Dropping down to his knee, Yasha stared at the grave plot for a moment, letting his fingers graze over the stones in front of him. To his right, Yasha felt Steve drop down next to him, and a small laugh left him, almost hysterical. "You said you wanted to meet the person I was gonna fall in love with someday.. here he is. Mama.. papa. This is Steve. And he's just as beautiful as you said he'd be."

  
Steve listened to Yasha speaking to his deceased parents, and a lump formed in his throat. Reaching out, Steve brushed his hand along the back of Yasha's knuckles. He leaned forward, letting his eyes graze over the grave markers. He was amazed to see that someone had actually etched the Barnes' likeness into the stones, one for George and Winifred each. Steve suddenly knew exactly where James had gotten his strikingly handsome appearance from. George had been a dashing fellow with a strong jaw and flawless features. Winifred... had Steve not known any better, he would have taken the woman to be a celebrity. "Your parents were beautiful..." Steve murmured, looking up at Yasha with a tender gaze.

  
Yasha nodded, looking down at his scraped knuckles as Steve wrapped his hand around his palm. Yasha threaded their fingers together, the two of them holding tightly to the other as if their lives depended on it. "Yeah.. they were. I wish you could have met them."

  
Steve smiled, looking down at the grave plot before him. As he did so, he caught sight of a flurry of motion to his right. Luckily, Yasha hadn't noticed. The brunet was too focused on his parents for the time being to notice anything around him. Perfect.

  
"Yasha. Give me your ring." Steve murmured, suddenly. He waited patiently as Yasha slowly reached into his pocket, pulling out the gold band. Yasha had given the band a quick, worried look before depositing the warmed metal into Steve's outstretched palm, wondering just what in the hell Steve was thinking. With his prize in hand, Steve leaned forward, looking down at the images of George and Winifred intently. "You don't have to worry about your son anymore. He's had a bit of a rough time... but he's going to be taken care of now. I promise you, I won't let anything else happen to your son, ever again. You have my word."

  
Yasha, taken aback by Steve's sudden motion and his words, looked down at the blond as he spoke to his parents. "Steve... Steve what the hell are you talking about?" He asked, raising a brow at him. When Steve didn't look up at him, he canted his head to the side. "Steve, are you alright? You... you're kind of talking insane, now."

  
Having given his word to the dearly departed, Steve looked up at Yasha, his eyes burning with intent. Sure, Yasha was looking at him like he was crazy now, and rightly so. How the hell could someone take care of anyone from across the big blue pond? No one could. But Steve had orchestrated this whole thing, and still Yasha was none the wiser. "Yasha. When I tell you that I love you. Do you believe me?"

  
Yasha, confused and a little bothered, nodded. "Yeah... yeah I do." He met the blond's piercing gaze for a moment, shaking his head. "Steve.. what the hell are you going on about?"

  
No. They weren't having this conversation kneeling on the cold ground. Clambering to his feet, Steve grabbed Yasha by the elbows and pulled him up with him. "Have you ever had just the craziest idea in the world, and thought that it could never work.. and then suddenly, everything clicks into place like the world's most complicated but satisfying puzzle piece?" He grinned, noting Yasha's concerned look. It was now or never. Grabbing Yasha by the shoulders, Steve spun the man around, a grin plastered on his face.

  
Yasha yelped as he was spun on his spot. "Steve, what the-!" he exclaimed, whirling on the ground. But as he came to a stop, he looked up before him, and his heart slammed to a halt in his chest. "Oh... my God.." he croaked, staring at the throng before him.

  
Everyone was standing before him. Sam, Natasha, Tony, Bruce, and Maria, flanked by Joe, Clint and Wade, stood in a small congregation before the two of them. At the front of the group, Sarah and Peggy were the center of attention, beaming proudly at Yasha. In all of their hands, everyone held posters, brightly decorated (Though Wade was proud to admit he'd put the most effort into his). And all those posters, they all spoke the same message, loud and clear:

  
_**"COME HOME, BUCKY"** _

  
Yasha stared at the group of them, feeling like the ground was falling out from beneath his feet. Tears immediately sprang to his eyes as he watched the group of them beaming at him, stepping forward to gather around him like a protective shield. "Oh my God.. You all... You all came!" He gasped, feeling himself choking up as they all surrounded him. "How the hell..."

  
Tony cleared his throat, looking at Yasha, apologetically. "That would be me. I had a... change of heart after we watched you get dragged out of the country like that and.. well, I did what I could to get all of us here to see you."

  
Wade chimed in, bouncing forward. "Please come home, Bucky! We want nothing more but for you to come back to America with us, Please please PLEASE!" The group around them began to murmur in agreement with Wade, smiling at the exhausted man before them.

  
He felt touched by their words, truly.. but Yasha's smile faded from his face as he looked down at the grounds before him. "I appreciate that you all came to see me... and that you all want me to come back with you so badly. But.. I just can't. The U.S. Government has a permanent ban on all of my future attempts at applying for a Visa because I lied. I can't go home with you guys..." He murmured, feeling his heart shriveling up in his chest. So close to happiness, touched so deeply by their actions, and once again, it was just not meant to be...

  
Suddenly, Yasha heard a chuckle from before him and he looked up. Peggy, of all people, was laughing right in his face. He felt a stab of hurt at her laughter and he looked down at her. "Aunt Peggy... what's so funny? It's true! I was told as Fury saw me out of the airport that I wasn't allowed to come back!"

  
Peggy only laughed again, looking up at the confused man before her. "Oh, James... you have so little faith. What did we tell you? You're a part of this family now.. and no one abandons family, not even in a foreign country with silly governmental rules and the like mucking things up." Peggy looked past Yasha to Steve, shooting him a wink. "However, if you really don't believe me... You should probably turn around."

  
Yasha, now thoroughly bewildered by this whole affair, gave the old woman a confused look before turning. What he saw, made his heart leap into his throat, and a fresh wave of tears spring to his eyes.

  
Steve had dropped down to one knee before him, looking up at Yasha with all the love and reverence in the world shining from his eyes. A huge smile was plastered across his face and in his fingers, he held the gold band up, letting the low light glint off of it. "Bucky... we all came here to bring you back to America, because I can't live without you. That weekend... it changed everything in both of us, and I realized that the reason I was never 100% happy in life was because I was waiting for you to come into it and make me complete. Yasha Barnes... marry me. So that I can spend the rest of my life falling in love with you."

  
Yasha stared at the blond before him. Tears freely rolled down his cheeks as he listened to Steve proposing to him, down on one knee and baring his soul to him. The ring glinted smugly before him, beckoning for Yasha to accept, to run wild with this one chance and take Steve to be his, just like he'd dreamed for so long. Now he understood, why everyone had surrounded them. This moment wasn't meant for Russia. It was meant just for them.

  
But...

  
"But how?" He asked, sniffling as he wiped his knuckles along his cheek, looking back at Sarah and Peggy. "How did... I don't understand."

  
Sarah beamed, stepping forward and nudging Yasha closer to her son. "We have a three day window to make this work, but Coulson and Tony found a loophole to bring you back to America. Once we return with you, he's going to expedite your legal citizenship. But you and Steve have to get married immediately when we return."

  
Tony spoke up, tapping his wrist. "So that means that man's poor knee is freezing on the ground, and we have just a few short hours to get our happy butts back on the plane and back to America. Tick tock, Bucky. Tick Tock."

  
Yasha laughed, wiping his hand along his cheek as the slightly manic sound left him. He looked down at Steve, the blond still kneeling before him holding up the ring to him. "... ask me again." he asked, feeling his happiness bubbling up his chest and threatening to leave him in a shriek of happiness.

  
Grinning wickedly up at Yasha, Steve reached out. He grabbed the brunet by the wrist and dragged him down to the ground, the two of them kneeling on the frozen earth together. "Bucky Barnes, marry me and make me the happiest man in America."

  
Yasha felt his sorrow crack like a fucking china plate. The laugh that bubbled up out of his throat mingled with a relieved sob, his tears running down his face in rivulets as he nodded at him. Throwing his arms around Steve's neck, Yasha tackled him to the ground, landing on top of him as he kissed the blond stupid. Everyone around them burst into laughter as they gave the two a wide berth, stepping back as Steve landed on the ground before them. Neither Steve nor Yasha...

  
No. Neither Steve nor **Bucky** paid any attention to the group around them, the two of them kissing like their souls depended on it. And in a way, they very much did. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky's back, holding him close to his chest. When the need for breath overrode their glee, Steve pulled back, panting heavily as he looked up at Bucky, kiss-reddened and on top of the fucking world. "I'm gonna take that as a yes."

  
Bucky nodded, grinning down at him before wiping the remainder of his tears from his cheeks. He'd never have to cry those bitter things ever again in his life, now that he had Steve. "Yeah. That is BEYOND definitely a yes."

  
All around them, the crowd cheered for the couple as Steve slipped the gold band around Bucky's finger. Where before, the gold ring had been tight around Steve's finger, on Bucky's hand it fit like it was meant to be. And according to history and the fate of this lovers' ring...

  
It was.

* * *

 

Notes: OMFG GUYS IM SO EXCITED. NEARLY DONE WITH THIS FIC. I'm gonna miss it incredibly when it's over, but omg a happy ending!!!! YAYAYAYA!!!!

 

But first:

Poor Bucky thinking he's ugly and undesirable for Stevie. Silly Bucky, Stevie Loves you!!!!

 

And LOOK WHAT I FOUND. The Epitome of skinny Yasha:

Gosh dang it, put some food in that man's belly!!! D:

 

And LOOKIT. STEVIE'S BEARD IS GROWING IN:

 

Stevie with a beard is my kryptonite. I can't even guys. Bucky cant even, either.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last two chapters are going to be posted at the same time, so there is going to be some time between the posting of this one and the last two, considering I have to do both at the same time. But stick it out and I swear you all are going to be so happy when you read them. ;D
> 
> EDIT: HEY GUYS IM BACK TO EDIT MY NOTES BECAUSE IM HAPPY TO ANNOUNCE, AFTER CAREFUL DELIBERATION AND POPULAR DEMAND, THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL WRITTEN FOR THE PROPOSAL AFTER ALL. I had originally thought that a sequel wasn't in the cards for my writing, BUT I felt so sad about seeing this verse go, that I decided to do some plotting after all. Besides, we have to see Steve and Yasha go on their honeymoon and see what sort of shenanigans they both get into. THANK YOU EVERYONE THAT REQUESTED A SEQUEL, YOU GUYS MADE IT POSSIBLE!!!! *big hugs*


	16. Christmas Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yasha and Steve spend Christmas together, making love and sharing presents. They never thought they'd have this, to be sure. But they both knew they'd never give it up for anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER GUYS!!!!

December 25th, 2015. Sitka, Alaska.

  
Yasha burrowed into the blankets with a light sigh, smile painting his lips as he felt the basking warmth at his back rousing him from his slumber. With a little huff, he pushed the ever growing bangs from his face. He didn't really know how he'd feel about having long hair, but when they'd returned to America, Steve had mentioned he thought the longer hair looked rather dashing on Yasha. So, naturally, he'd decided to grow it out for awhile, and see how he felt about it. It had gotten past the point of shaggy, and was inching up on long. He was sure, in just a few more months, his hair would be long enough to pull back into a tie. If Steve's reactions to tugging on his hair during sex were anything to go by, he was pretty sure the blond would love that, and happily allowed his hair to continue to grow.

  
As he lay there, he felt an arm slip around his waist as he lay there, fingers dancing up his bare thigh until they found his hip, resting there for a moment. He knew what was coming before those fingers even moved, and he curled in on himself, swatting sleepily at the hand ready to assault him with tickles. "Tickle me, and you don't get your Christmas present." Yasha murmured, grinning to himself.

  
"Aww babe, you're no fun." Steve whined, wrapping his arm around Yasha's waist and tugging him flush to his front. His whine melted into a cheeky grin as he ground his hips against the brunet's backside, letting his not-quite-official husband know he'd woken up with an itch that needed serious scratching. "So since you're being a sore sport, can I get part of my Christmas present now?" Steve asked, sounding hopeful. He pressed a line of kisses up and down the back of Yasha's neck, letting the scratch of his fully grown-in beard tickle the brunet's skin until the man was squirming in his arms.

  
Yasha smirked, feeling the line of Steve's early morning erection pressed against his ass and the rough scratch of his beard as he kissed his neck. He gave his hips a little wiggle, pressing back against him for a moment before pausing. "Hmmm.. I dunno. Have you been a good boy this year?" he asked, turning over to stare up at his lover with a wicked grin. He let his fingers trail down the front of Steve's chest and stomach, until they found their prize standing at full attention from his hips. Yasha wrapped his fingers around the length of Steve's cock, giving it a few gentle strokes.

  
Facing the blond fully now, Yasha found his senses assaulted with the sweet smell of stale sex, still permeating off of the slightly tacky sheets. After their little Christmas eve party with Sarah, Joe and Aunt Peggy, Steve and Yasha had both turned in for the night, claiming to be tired and wanting to get some sleep. Instead of sleep, however, the two had decided to christen the new bottle of warming slick they'd bought in New York. They were both pretty sure their moans had been heard clear across the lake. They didn't really care.

  
Now, the two of them lay in the aftermath of probably some of the best sex either of them had had in a long time, and both of them were teeming with want for the other. Yasha felt his skin crawling with desire as he stared up at his partner. Grin turning absolutely filthy, Yasha released his partner's cock, pressing his palm to his shoulder and shoving him to his back. Without hesitation, he clambered over him, straddling his waist and running his palms up and down the blond's firm chest. "I think you've been good enough to get half of your present now..." he murmured, grabbing Steve's wrists and planting his hands on his own ass.

  
Steve relished this side of Yasha. Ever since the two had returned from St. Petersburg, they'd spent nearly ever waking moment they could together. It seemed that the loss of his depression had unleashed a totally new side of Yasha that he'd never seen before, and that side was sexually voracious. Steve rather liked that side. Even now, he found his features breaking into a lecherous grin as he ran his palms over the smooth globes of Yasha's ass, kneading the muscles firmly before giving the skin of his left ass cheek a sharp smack. "Oh yeah, I've been real good. Don't tease me, baby..." He murmured, rutting his hips up against his lover's ass.

  
Yasha laughed, leaning down and mouthing a wet trail up the side of Steve's neck, sucking a bruise into the pulse point before laving over it with warm, wet strokes of his tongue. "I'll tease you all I want. You tried to tickle me awake."

  
"You would have liked it."

  
Yasha shut him up with a kiss, the two of them delving in with a hungry passion. Teeth clicked and tongues battled as they claimed the other in a desperate frenzy. Blindly, Yasha reached over for the half used up bottle of lube on the side table. It really wouldn't take much to get him prepped, to be honest. He was still pliant and loose from their hearty sex the night before. Still, he grabbed the bottle and flipped the cap with his thumb, waving it in a little taunt before his partner's eyes. "Wanna do the honors?"

  
"It would be my genuine pleasure." Steve murmured, grabbing the bottle from him. He drizzled a small amount onto his fingers, slicking his index and middle finger up in the viscous fluid before reaching behind his spouse and rubbing his digits against the loosened pucker. He prodded further, breaching the ring of muscle with both fingers, until he was buried three knuckles deep into the brunet's body.

  
Yasha whimpered, rocking his hips back against the fingers impaling him so easily. He propped himself up on his hands, looking down at the blond as his cheeks flushed with pleasure, brow furrowed as he concentrated on holding himself up while Steve assaulted his prostate with little brushes of his middle finger. "Fuck... still sensitive..."

  
"Need me to stop?" Steve asked, his fingers slowing as he looked up at his lover with a mild concern. He gasped in surprise when Yasha suddenly reached back, grabbing his wrist and shoving his hand further against his ass, until his knuckles were pressing into the firm rounds of his cheeks.

  
"You stop, and I'll slap the hell out of you." Yasha growled, mouthing along the beared jaw, relishing the taste of salty skin and musk permeating off of his husband. As he did, he let go of the blond's wrist, taking the moment to wrap his hand around Steve's cock again. He gave it a few twists of his wrist as he rutted his hips back and forth, grinding against his cock and fingers in firm strokes.

  
By now, Steve's cock was fully engorged, hot and red and twitching from the friction Yasha so effortlessly gave him. He bucked his hips up against him, feeling the brunet shivering violently above him with the added pressure against his prostate. "Fucking hell... you're so fucking hot, Bucky..." Steve growled, crooking his fingers inside his lover's overly stimulated channel, feeling the little bundle of nerves already twitching with delight. He prodded the little bulge inside Yasha, feeling the brunet jolting on top of him as a choked off cry ebbed into the room. "You like that? You like it when I fuck you pretty?"

  
"Auunn... baby don't TEASE!" Yasha hissed, looking down at him as he panted heavily. He rocked his hips back against Steve's hand, feeling his fingers splitting him and the line of his cock threatening to breach his over sensitive hole. "Mr. Rogers, don't abuse your husband like that."

  
"Oh, Mr. Rogers, I never abuse. I only take good care of what's mine." Steve murmured. Without warning, he flipped them both over, pressing Yasha to his stomach, and spreading his ass cheeks with his thumbs. He gave a few long licks up the twitching pucker of his ass, feeling the brunet squirming beneath him. With a wicked smile, Steve grabbed the lube and slicked up his cock, giving a few fast strokes to bring himself to full mast. When he'd finished, the blond loomed over Yasha's back, pressing his hands to the mattress beneath them. He pinned Yasha's wrists to the bedding, growling dangerously in his ear as he rutted against his ass, letting the line of his slicked cock stroke him. "You might wanna bite down on something..."

  
With that, Steve reached down, lining the tip of his cock against the stretched hole before him, giving his hips a few cursory thrusts before he impaled him in one go, bottoming out in his lover's channel with a loud groan of pleasure. Sure enough, Yasha had bitten into the pillow not a second too soon, and the shout of bliss that left him was surprisingly loud, despite the muffle of the pillow he had his face buried into. "Fuck, yeah... still so tight for me, baby..."

  
Yasha cried out into his pillow, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. His fingers dug into the mattress beneath him, white-knuckled as he held on for dear life. Desperation overrode any other thought, and his hips rolled back against Steve's lap. "Ugh.. MOVE please!" Yasha whimpered, twisting his neck to look up at Steve above his back. Bright blue eyes begged so sweetly for his husband's body, begging him without words to continue on.

  
Steve could never deny those eyes. He found himself whimpering a little at the sight of him, and he leaned down over Yasha's shoulder to kiss him dirty. Lined up along the brunet's back, Steve planted his elbows into the bedding and picked up a desperate cadence, drilling into him with deep thrusts, until the air filled with the sounds of skin against skin. When he pulled away from the brunet for a gasp of air, he nipped at the crook of his neck, drawing a sharp gasp out of him.

  
Yasha bit his lip at the bite that marked his neck so pretty. Sure, he was going to have a bruise in all their Christmas photos now, but after the insane year the two of them had, he didn't really think anyone would mind. Looking back at Steve through the tumble of his long bangs, Yasha licked his lower lip in invitation, pressing himself back to meet those delicious thrusts with abandon. "We're running on the clock, Steve..." Yasha gasped, his voice hitching with a particularly hard thrust. "They're... gonna wake up soon.. and hear us."

  
Steve slowed his hips as he looked down at him. They had learned long ago, they could read each other better than anyone they ever knew, and those eyes were telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. "Bathroom it is then.." Steve murmured. Pulling out with a wet slip, Steve clambered off of the bed. But instead of letting Yasha get up on his own, he scooped the pliant brunet into his arms, wrapping his legs around his waist as he held him up by his thighs. "We better hurry up then." With that, Steve carried the brunet from the bed into the adjacent bedroom, elbowing the light switch as he went.

  
In perfect synchronization, Yasha bent back to twist the shower knobs, getting a good spray of hot water going. As he did, he felt Steve leaned forward, licking a wet line across his chest and catching his nipples in the process. Yasha whined, looking back at Steve with a plea that died on his lips, the moment the blond wrapped his teeth around a pert nipple and gave it a sharp pull. "Auh!!! Oh God, hurry up!" he begged. Not a moment later, the two were doused in a spray of hot water as Steve stepped into the shower. he pressed his back against the wall, hiking the brunet's legs up his waist a bit before pressing back into his wanting channel, sliding in with ease. "Oh fuck, fuck... i'm already close baby!" he whimpered, looking up at Steve with doe-eyes and a face flushed like a rose.

  
With surprising strength, Steve hiked the brunet up higher still, giving himself plenty of leverage. Then, with a deep-chested growl, Steve pummeled his stretched hole, the hot water and lube slicking them up easily as he drilled him against the wall of the shower. He tightened his fingers along the brunet's thighs, seeing the beginnings of finger-print bruises forming on the pale skin. "Don't even fight it.. let go baby I wanna see you come." Steve murmured, nipping along the already abused throat before him before he pulled Yasha into a deep, plundering kiss.

  
Yasha gasped, his eyes rolling to his skull as he felt the wild, fast thrusts drilling his prostate with each well-aimed rut. His head fell back against the shower wall with a thud and a cry of abandon left him as his overly sensitive nerves were assaulted so sweetly. His hands clawed their way down to Steve's ass, gripping the perfect mounds and wrenching him in closer, until his thrusts no longer withdrew. Instead, he ground into him, hiking the brunet up the wall with each roll of his hips. "Oh fuck.. fuckFUCKFUCK! STEVE!" Yasha shouted, fingers digging into the blond's ass as he came with a blinding white thrill. He painted the two of them with his release, the pearls of liquid washed away into the shower drain.

  
Steve hissed in pleasure at the sight of his spouse losing control in his arms. He rutted up twice more into him before the twitching of his channel had him spilling into his body, coating his walls with his release before his hips finally stilled. The two of them panted heavily as the hot water continued to beat down on them, washing away sweat and come from their skin. After a few moments, Steve, very gently lowered his lover down to the floor of the shower, pulling out of him with a groan of disappointment to leave that warmth behind. As he continued to gather his faculties, Steve looked down at his lover, grinning stupidly. "That was only half of my present?" Steve asked, breathlessly as he pulled Yasha into another kiss, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

  
Yasha rolled his eyes, but went into the kiss happily, his hands still running up and down the blond's back as he nuzzled into him. "Yeah, only half. But you'll have to wait until your parents are awake before you get the other part."

  
Steve smirked, making quick work of grabbing the loofah from the shower wall, and the bottle of soap. "Turn around. Lemme get your back." He murmured, lathering up the loofah as he spoke. When the brunet turned in his arms, he made quick work of washing his lover's back, soothing the red marks left behind from being pressed into the shower wall so thoroughly. "You might have a bruise, now." he murmured, sounding a little apologetic.

  
Yasha shrugged, soaking up the affection from him as he grabbed for the shampoo to wash his ever growing locks of hair. "I don't even care. I got it from you, that's all that matters." he said, flashing him a loving smile over his shoulder.

  
Steve softened, his own smile crossing his lips as he trailed kisses down the side of Yasha's throat. As he reached his left shoulder, he pressed a gentle and reverent kiss to the new tattoo on his skin. Where had once been an ugly red star with a hideous creature inside it, now sat a bright white star, surrounded in bands of red and blue. When he'd shown the simple drawing to Yasha after their flight back to New York, the brunet had been a little confused as to what it meant. When he explained that he needed a shield more fitting for someone as brave as he was, the brunet had broken down into grateful tears, happily holding his new spouse close and whispering his thanks over and over. They'd went and gotten the tattoo redone the very next day.

  
The skin still felt slightly sensitive, but Yasha relished the faint sting. It reminded him of everything he'd gone through with Steve, and the opportunity at a second chance he never thought he'd get to have. After a moment, he turned in the circle of Steve's arms, looking up at him for a moment, before he bent his head and kissed the blond's left collarbone. The warm touch of a still slightly pink tattoo sat on the bone, an exact match to Yasha's in every way. The day the two had gone to get Yasha's shoulder re-inked, Steve had clambered into the seat immediately after Yasha had gotten out, taking both the brunet and the tattoo artist by surprise. When Steve plucked his shirt off and pointed to his collarbone, Yasha felt his heart swelling with pride. He knew exactly what that meant, and he sat down, carefully peeling his shirt back to let the artist copy the words onto his husband's collarbone. Now, the jet black ink sat like a beacon on Steve's pale skin, hearkening to their timeless romance, plucked straight out of a fairytale, and solidifying the two as one.

  
"Bucky..." Steve murmured, looking down at his husband, touching his temple to rouse him from his cuddly thoughts. "Hey... let's get out. I think I heard my mother leave her room. We need to head down, or else she'll have our heads for breakfast."  
"Somehow, I really doubt your mother could be anything remotely terrifying." Yasha chuckled, looking up at him before sighing and twisting the handle of the shower to 'off'. In record time, the two toweled off and made their way into the bedroom to dress. They'd long since left a stock of clothing here for their frequent trips up to visit. They'd both decided to live in New York after all, but they'd both been reluctant to spend so much time away from the world that had brought them together. Besides, Natasha had threatened to castrate them both, should they decide to take another two years before they came to visit. The decision was made rather quickly at that point.

  
Pulling a pair of fresh jeans on and a dark gray sweater, Yasha padded barefoot over to the window and pulled the curtains open. The sun hung low in the sky, painting the snowy landscape in bright oranges and reds. Despite the fact the sun barely made an appearance this time of year, the brunet still found it stunningly gorgeous. The white snow coated the land in crystal shimmers, brightening the darkened scenery considerably. He smiled, pressing his elbow to the glass as he admired the landscape quietly.  
When a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, Yasha looked up at his partner, leaning in to give him a kiss. "All set?" he asked, rubbing his palm tenderly against the beared jaw that tickled his ear.

  
"Yeah. All set." Steve murmured. Taking his hand, the blond led him from the room, down the stairs and to the living room. There, Sarah and Joe sat sipping cups of cinnamon coffee, and eyeing up the Christmas tree with anticipation. The moment the two entered the room, Sarah sprang to her feet and ran over to them, wrapping her arms around their necks simultaneously. "Good morning, my boys!" she squealed, kissing them both on the cheek. "Merry Christmas! How did you two sleep?"

  
"We slept well, Ma." Yasha smiled, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist and holding him close. "Though I think the cold does things to Stevie. He kept stealing the blankets all night."

  
"I did not!" Steve protested, looking down at his little shit of a husband. No sooner had he done that, Sarah whacked him in the shoulder with her newspaper, earning a petulant whine from him. "Maaa..."

  
"Steven Rogers, you should be nicer to your husband. The poor dear could freeze, he's so small!" Sarah teased, winking at Yasha before she disappeared from the room. When she emerged a moment later, her famous cinnamon rolls sat piled high on a platter, and she smiled. "Eat up, both of you. Yasha, you especially. You're still too thin!"

  
Yasha blushed, looking down at himself. It was true. After they'd returned to New York together, the whole group had taken him to the finest of restaurants, stuffing him full with food to try and put the weight he'd lost so quickly, back on. He'd gained a considerable amount back in two months, but he'd still not passed Sarah's inspections just yet. Without complaint, he plucked up a fat, gooey roll from the tray and took a bit, nodding to his mother-in-law with a grateful smile.

  
"Alright, that's enough of that. Let's get this show on the road!" Joe called, plucking up two neatly wrapped presents and holding them up.

  
With that, the four of them sat down around the tree together, distributing presents to each other. Whatever little savings Yasha had had left after his hellacious six months in St. Petersburg, went straight into buying the best presents he could possibly get for his new family, though he had to regretfully inform all of his friends he couldn't afford much for them. Their response, in classic fashion, had brought him to grateful tears ("We don't need presents from you, Bucky. You're home now. That's all that matters.")  
It didn't take long for Cap to come slinking out from his new wolf-sized doggy bed, looking a little rumpled from sleep, but enticed by the smell of cinnamon-y goodness. the wolf-dog quietly crept over to Yasha's side, planting his big head in his lap while the brunet worked diligently at ripping the wrapping off of a small box. A laugh of delight left Yasha as he saw the still sealed copy of "Dirty Dancing" in his hands, and he leaned over to press a kiss to Sarah's cheek in thanks. As he sat back up, he looked down at the wolf in his lap, grinning as he slipped the begging canine a piece of cinnamon roll. He was sure to get hell for it, but poor Cap... looking so starved and neglected. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Cap's fluffy ear before whispering, "There's more where that came from, big guy." Cap's tail thumped happily on the floor in response.

  
All too soon, the floor was covered in a littering of wrapping paper, and presents were stacked up in their designated piles. The haul had been pretty surprising, considering the odd few months they'd had to deal with right before the holiday. Everyone looked absolutely pleased with themselves as they admired their gifts and spread thanks.

  
But as Yasha leaned in to kiss his husband reverently, Steve suddenly placed his fingers on the brunet's lips, stopping him. "Hold that thought. I have one more gift for you." Steve said, smiling at him.

  
Yasha paused, looking a little confused, before a smile crossed his lips. "Alright then. Hurry back, though, because I have one more gift I need to give you too." he said, giving Sarah a huge wink.

  
Sarah giggled, bouncing slightly in her seat as she looked between the two men. "Hurry up, now! Let's get on with it!" she said, waving her hands to Steve.

  
Steve nodded, climbing to his feet. "Dad, can you come with me?" He asked. He watched as Sarah and Joe shared a knowing look as the older man got to his feet and followed after his son.

  
Yasha, now looking a little confused, looked over at Sarah, raising a brow. "You're playing both sides of the field, aren't you?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at her. She'd known about HIS gift to Steve for about a month now, but if the giddy look she had on her face was anything to go by, she'd been in cahoots with her own son for a present for him. "You're tricky, you know that?"

  
Sarah, waved her hand, taking a sip of coffee. "I have NO idea what you're talking about." she said, grinning at him.

  
After a few moments, Steve's voice lofted over the air, sounding far too smug. "Alright, Bucky. Close your eyes and hold your arms out." he called, not once peeking around the wall. Yasha looked at the hallway where the two men had disappeared, his eyes widening a bit before he huffed.

  
"Oh come on, you know how I am about these kinds of surprises." Yasha whined, looking at Sarah for clarification. Of course, she was perfectly tight-lipped about the whole thing, and offered up no hints. "It's not something disgusting is it?" He said, closing his eyes and holding his arms out. "OK they're closed."

  
Dutifully, Yasha kept his eyes closed, even as he heard footsteps approaching, and the sound of a door closing. Whatever it was, Steve must have needed Joe to close the door behind him, which meant that his arms were full. But before he could ponder any further, a yelp of surprise left him as he felt something warm and heavy deposited into his arms.

  
Warm and heavy, and furry.

  
Yasha's eyes flew open as he looked down at his arms, and the squirming husky puppy that sat in his lap. "Oh.. my God." he said, a huge smile painting his lips. He looked up at Steve, his blue eyes shining with delight as the puppy squirmed around to stand in the fold of his lap. "Oh my God he's perfect!" Yasha cried, feeling the puppy latch onto his shoulders with his forepaws, and lick huge, happy kisses up his cheeks. "I can't.. he's mine?" He asked, looking down at the squirmy little tyke in his lap.

  
Steve smiled, sitting down in front of him before reaching out and combing his fingers along the little black puppy's shoulders. "Yeah, he's all yours. When you made mention about Cap seeming lonely, I read between the lines." He said, giving his spouse a teasing look.

  
Yasha blushed, looking up at Steve before grinning and planting a kiss on the puppy's nose. "Well he's perfect, and I love him. I dunno what I'm gonna call him, though..." He said, looking over at Cap. As he pondered his answer, a smile painted his lips, and he looked up at Steve. "I'll name him Sarge. It'll go with Cap."

  
Steve grinned, looking down as the puppy began to squirm more wildly in Yasha's arms. "I think he likes that name too." he chuckled, leaning back on his palms.

  
The two of them relished the moment, just playing with the puppy before a throat cleared somewhere behind them. They both looked up to see Sarah giving them a wink, and a nod in the brunet's direction.

  
"Oh, right!" Yasha said, putting Sarge down on the floor. He watched as the puppy waddled over to Cap's side and immediately curled up in the fluff of his underbelly. He couldn't help how his heart melted at the sight of Cap protecting Sarge so readily, the two dogs falling asleep in record time. "That is too damn cute. Right, right.. your present." he said. Climbing to his feet, Yasha disappeared into the kitchen, where he'd stowed it safely from prying eyes.

  
This time, it was Steve's turn to look intrigued by his husban'd elusive behavior. He glanced over at his mother, finding her grinning brightly at him, her hands tapping on the sides of the mug. "You're a double agent, you know that?" He said, laughing.

"You know, I think there's an echo in here." Sarah said, cupping her hand around her ear. "Honestly, I can't be a good mother unless I know how to dupe my children."

  
Steve felt a little flutter of happiness at her wording, looking over at the door. He'd never be more grateful to his mother, than he was right now... she'd accepted Yasha into their family so quickly, and had so much faith in the two of them. She was going to get one HELL of a Mother's day gift this year, that was for sure.

  
Yasha slipped back into the living room, looking down at the three of them as he held his present behind his back. Dropping down in front of Steve, the brunet grinned at him and pulled out a white envelop. He squirmed slightly in his spot as he saw Steve take the envelope from him, eyeing it up carefully before he tore the paper open.

  
But as he did, instead of a letter, out fell a set of keys, and a picture. Steve looked down at the keys for a moment, confused. Confused, that is, until he turned the picture over. His jaw fell open as he stared at the picture, his eyes bluging from his head before he looked up at his husband. "No way..."

  
Yasha smiled, blushing dark red as he looked down at the picture of the Harley Roadster in Steve's hands. "So i had to borrow money from Wade. Turns out, he's surprisingly loaded, and he said that when I get a job, I can pay him back a little at a time for it. But yeah. It's sitting in a storage unit in New York, waiting for you."

Steve laughed, loud and happy as he pulled his husband into his arms and kissed the hell out of him. "This is gorgeous! Bucky... I can't... Are you serious?!"

  
Yasha grinned, looking up at Sarah and Joe before flashing them both a thumbs up. "Told you, you were a good boy this year." He said, grinning at him as they kissed.

  
From behind then, the sound of a camera shutter flashed and they looked up to see Sarah holding a camera and grinning proudly at the two of them. She checked the image on the digital display before cooing at it. They looked so happy together, so in love. She found herself tearing up a little as she looked up at her boys, watching as the two curled up on the floor together. playing with the puppy between them and admiring the image of the motorcycle. She'd known for years that Steve had always wanted one, and when Yasha had approached her with the idea of getting him a bike because he'd look "sexy as hell" on it, she'd supplied him with a few models she knew her son had always pined over.

  
Yasha smiled up at his husband, the two of them curled up on the floor of the living room together. They really didn't have much time to revel in the moment, though. The four of them had a huge Christmas party, thrown at Stark Manor, to go to in a couple hours. So, he leaned in and pressed one last kiss to the tattoo poking out of Steve's collar, nuzzling up to him with a happy sigh. "Я люблю тебя." (I love you.)

  
Steve smiled, leaning in and pressing Yasha into a tender kiss, before pulling away and beaming down at him. "Я тоже тебя люблю." (I love you too), he murmured, brushing his fingers along Yasha's brow as he spoke. He'd slowly been teaching himself some Russian, since their return, with a little help from his Mail Order Husband. When people asked him why, Steve's answer had been simple. He fully intended on giving his vows entirely in Russian, when they officially got married in September.

  
The bright eyed smile he got from Yasha for his response had his heart fluttering happily in his chest, and he pressed a kiss to the brunet's nose. "I really do, Bucky. To the end of the line."

  
Yasha smiled, wrapping his arms around Steve's shoulders and holding him close. "Thank you for everything, Stevie... I'm never going away ever again. Not as long as I have you with me. To the end of the line, babe."

  
And they both knew, in their hearts, they meant it.

* * *

 

Brief photo notes:

here's Sarge:

 

Here's the motorcycle:

 

And here's le sexy times in the shower for you all :) :

 

ONTO THE FINAL CHAPTER!!!!!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last sexual fling before you guys break down in tears with the cuteness ahead. Enjoy!


	17. Sarah's big book of Photos; Steve and Yasha Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look back at the year Yasha and Steve spent together, leading up to their official marriage :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forever to read chapter 16, guy!!! Gotta have that last little bit of smut before you go! I realized posting two chapters at once was tough, considering some people might miss the previous one haha! 
> 
> LOTS of picture notes at the end for you guys! Oh my god thank you SO MUCH FOR ALL THE SUPPORT YOUVE GIVEN ME. You all made it possible, and I can't thank you enough for everything. ONTO THE CHAPTER WITH YOU ALL
> 
> A VERY brief chapter just to show the life Steve and Yasha lived together since their return from Russia. Dont wanna give too much away before the sequel is written!!!!

Sarah's big book of Photos: Steve and Yasha Rogers

  
December 25th, 2015: Sarah adored this picture. Seeing the two of them curled up on the floor together, with puppy in tow. She had happily stowed the photo in with the remainder of the holiday, though she was not ashamed to admit that most, if not almost all, of her photos had been of the happy couple. Dinner had gone off well, everyone surrounding the two of them as food and drink were shared amongst friends. In one particular picture, Yasha had ended up standing beneath the mistletoe with Aunt Peggy, and he happily planted a kiss to the old woman's cheek, with everyone laughing and clapping for the two of them. Aunt Peggy looked so damn proud.

  
January 17th, 2016: These photos had been sent to Sarah from Steve and Yasha in New York. The two had decided to buy their own apartment together, in Brooklyn, and had taken pictures of the entire move-in process between them. Her favorite pictures had been a selfie Steve had taken with his phone, of the two of them laying on the floor together in a mess of packing peanuts and bubble wrap. They both looked tired and a little sweaty, Yasha's ever growing hair pulled back into a messy tie, but the smiles on their faces were nothing short of elation. Sarge had taken the opportunity, in the very next selfie, to clamber all over Yasha's face and plant his furry butt down on his forehead, while Steve laughed wildly next to them. She was pretty sure they were going to be a very happy family.

  
February 23rd, 2016: This one, Natasha, Sam, and Clint had all flown down to New York to support Yasha in his big debut. He'd taken to dancing again, and had entered a State-wide dance competition. This day held a collection of photos, of Yasha tearing up the stage in a sultry rendition of a smart Paso Doble, his hair pulled back in a neat bun, and the female dancer he'd been paired with wearing a fiery orange dress. Natasha had taken the opportunity to videotape the two of them dancing, and even snapped a few photos of Steve sitting nervously in the audience, praying his partner won the gold. Naturally, he did. When the competition ended, Yasha had bolted from the stage, holding his trophy high, and leaped into Steve's arms, kissing him happily. Sam had had the honors of taking that one, while Clint and Natasha cheered the happy couple on. Now, Sarah was pretty certain, THIS one was her favorite photo.  (quick note: This is a Paso Doble. Tis sexy for Yasha to dance to: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gA4nQn4V9Uw> )

  
March 10th, 2016: This time, it was a photo from Yasha's birthday. Freshly turned 28 years old, he looked stunning in a sharp suit, standing next to Steve. They'd gone out in style that night, hitting up the biggest, most prestigious restaurant they could. Steve had asked a woman if she could take their photo together, and the result was a stunning display. They both looked so happy, so perfect together. Sarah knew, at this point, that ANY photo she got, was going to be her favorite.

  
April 3rd, 2016: Yasha had taken the photos this time. Steve, looking positively elated, was holding up a letter they'd both received in the mail that day. After a few months attempts, the two had managed to co-write a novel together, and submitted it to a publishing company, (NOT Pierce Publishing, thank God. That company had run itself into the ground since their departure. Good riddance). The publishing company had been ecstatic to receive their manuscript, and signed the two of them on for a whopping 50,000 copy distribution of their novel. It goes without saying, Wade had been paid off right away for the motorcycle in December. Sarah smiled as she looked at the photo of Yasha and Steve kissing over the letter they'd received. Now, they had no reason to worry about the money needed for the official wedding in just a few months.

  
June 28th 2016: Yasha and Steve had taken photos of the two of them on a plane, flying to California. They'd all made plans to meet up with the gang of friends to go to Universal Studios Hollywood for a long week away from work and responsibilities and just spend an entire week being kids again. Yasha had taken photo after photo of he and Steve on multiple roller coasters, before the next photo in line was snapped by Maria. Steve had gotten ill on the last roller coaster, and was now spending his time with his head in Yasha's lap, a bag of ice pressed to his forehead. Poor Yasha had looked so worried as he tended to his partner's ills. Thankfully, it hadn't taken long for Steve to bounce back, and the two of them spent the day avoiding rides and just enjoying the scenery together. When the sun had set and fireworks lit up the sky, Sam had taken a photo of the two of them kissing in the firework lights. Of course, Wade had ruined the romantic moment by photobombing them with a foam finger, and grinning like a lunatic. Still one of Sarahs' favorites.

  
July 4th 2016: Steve and Yasha had flown back up to Sitka to celebrate Steve's 27th birthday, and boy where they glad they had. The fireworks that Fourth of July were more stunning than any Yasha had ever seen, and as his first Independence day as an official Citizen had been a touching one. Sarah had snapped so many photos of the two of them, the stacks of Independence day pictures lined up on the pages. But what had been the best part of the whole night, was when the fireworks ended, the skies suddenly erupted in a flash of green and pink colors. At first, Yasha didn't understand why people were cheering and cooing so loudly. But when Steve explained that that's what a real Aurora Borealis looked like, Yasha stared in wonder at the beautiful colors. Sarah's photo of Yasha's stunned expression, painted across his beautiful face, had gone right at the front of the collection, while Steve looked on at his husband with nothing but pure love.

  
August 14th 2016: It was a quiet summer day in Brooklyn. Though nothing remotely exciting had happened, Steve had just explained he'd loved the day, simply because it had been so peaceful between the spouses. The two had taken Sarge out on a long walk, and now were sprawled under a tree in the shade from the blaring summer heat. By now, Yasha's hair had grown quite long, and easily pulled back into a bun. Loose strands of hair hung in his face as he smiled up at the camera, his cheeks flushed pink from the heat. He'd long since divested his tank top and was laying on the grass shirtless, his left arm flung over his forehead. The scar he'd been so worried about less than a year ago, had faded to a gentle white line, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't looking. On his chest, Sarge had lain his fluffy head. The pup had grown substantially since December, and his great big head almost completely covered Yasha's chest. Steve had then turned the photo to selfie mode and curled up next to his spouse, the two of them flashing peace signs at the camera, and kissing each other happily, while Sarge snoozed on Yasha's chest. Their tattoos stood proudly on display, matching signs of the love and hardship they went through to be together. Sarah secretly saved that photo for their wedding, having them plastered all over the invitations she sent out to all. Though Steve and Yasha had protested how sweaty and hot they looked in the photos, Sarah knew they secretly loved it. No other picture could have possibly done better to show the world how much those two loved each other.

 

Today, September 15th, 2016

Sarah stared down at her photo album, grinning broadly as she looked at the blank pages before her. A knock at the door caught her attention, and she looked up to see her husband poking his head into the door. He looked handsome, decked out in a tuxedo and a boutineer made of a Crocus and an Arnica Montana, the blue and yellow bright and sunny against his chest.

  
"Sarah, darling. We're going to be late to our own Son's wedding!" He said, gesturing to the hallway of the resort. The sun was sitting high in the sky over Mohonk Mountain resort, and the skies couldn't have been more perfect. Gold and yellows painted the trees surrounding the resort, and the outdoor chapel was beautifully decorated in reds, yellows, blues and whites.

  
Sarah smiled, standing and smoothing her dress as she took her husband's hand. "We can't let that happen, now can we?" she said, feeling her eyes pricking with tears. As the two of them stepped out of the hall towards the outdoor chapel, the sounds of wedding music lofted over the Fall air around them. The priest stood at the altar with Steve, their son dressed in a jet black tuxedo, his beard full and neat, and his hair styled in a perfect coif. He looked nervous, the poor dear.

  
At his side, Clint, Bruce, Sam and Wade stood in as his groomsmen, the three of them wearing equally black tuxedoes and beaming with pride at their friend. On the other side of the altar, Natasha, Maria, Sharon and Tony stood, the girls decked in white dresses, while Tony wore a light gray tuxedo with the same Russian boutineer in his button hole.

  
Sarah and Joe sat down at the front of the congregation, turning just in time to hear the Wedding March begin to play. Everyone turned in time to see Yasha step out. He looked stunning in an all-white tuxedo, his hair pulled back, and his face clean shaven. As he walked down the aisle towards his husband, he stopped halfway, and extended his elbow. From her seat, Aunt Peggy stood up, and took his arm. It had been decided long before, that she should have the honor of giving Yasha away to Steve, and the two of them made the final walk down the remainder of the aisle together. Yasha smiled down at her as they came to a stop in front of the altar, and he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

  
"Thank you.." he murmured to her, feeling the old woman touch his cheek lovingly.

  
"Oh don't thank me yet, you'll cause my make up to run!" Aunt Peggy said, blinking hard to ward off the tears that threatened to spill over. She graciously allowed Yasha to help her sit down in the front row, the entire congregation watching as he stepped up to the altar. Steve stepped down, extending his hands to him as they met. Their smiles were nothing short of perfection, equal parts excitement and pure love coloring their features as they both stepped up to the altar together. Steve looked down at Yasha as the priest prepared to begin the ceremony, and he winked. "To the end of the line?"

  
Yasha smiled, squeezing his hand in return. "To the end of the line."

  
Sarah beamed, watching the two as she slipped her camera out and snapped a photo of them. As she checked the screen, she found herself beaming, as the flash had caught the glint of Yasha's gold wedding ring, the very thing that had brought them together, over a year ago.

  
Yeah. This was definitely her favorite photo...

* * *

 

 Picture Notes:

Here's some of the pictures described above.

 

 (not really described I just wanted to use it lol)

 Yasha with his ever growing long hair

 Steve and his beard

 

 The resort where Steve and Yasha get married

 The Aurora Borealis on Steve's Birthday

And now... THE CAST OF OUR STORY!!!:

 Steve Rogers

 Yasha "James" Barnes

 Sarah Rogers

 Joe Rogers

 Natasha Romanov

 Tony Stark

 Sam Wilson

 Bruce Banner

 Clint Barton

 Maria Hill

 Wade Wilson

And finally

 Aunt Peggy Carter! (Sorry she doesnt look much like Hayley Atwell, I did the best i could to find an actress that might look like her when she's old and I didn't want to use her hospital scene from The Winter Soldier)

 

Thank you so much for your time and I hope you enjoyed my story! Sequel coming soon!!!!

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND AGAIN THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT. THANK YOU FOR STICKING IT OUT WITH ME TO THE END OF THE LINE.
> 
> I'm happy to announce, thanks to your requests, I will be writing a sequel to this story. It will be titled "The Honeymoon" and it will follow Steve and Yasha's adventures on their honeymoon in Costa Rica. I'm not sure when I will be able to write it, but know this. I will be putting as much time, effort and love into it as you all deserve.
> 
> If you are not interested in a sequel, I did end the fic in a way that is deemed "final" so you don't feel like youre left with a cliffhanger. Those that choose to hang out and wait for the sequel, WELCOME ABOARD! Thank you again, SO MUCH everyone for your love and devotion. I loved writing this fic so damn much. And I look forward to writing the sequel!!!!


	18. COMING SOON: THE HONEYMOON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a chapter update, but rather a feature "trailer" for the coming sequel of "The Proposal"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There really isn't anything to say. it's just preview images of the characters to come in the sequel and a synopsis of the story to be had! :D I hope you guys enjoy, and let me know what you think!!!!

COMING SOON TO AN AO3 POST NEAR YOU

 

Picking up after their wedding, Yasha and Steve head to COSTA RICA for a beautiful honeymoon that's been a year in waiting!!! 3 weeks of fun in the sun, no responsibilities, and really spending time together as a happily married couple, the two haven't a care in the world to look forward to. But when the airline manages to bungle their trip upon the first day of their arrival, the two shrug it off as a simple mistake and hope to spend the rest of their honeymoon in bliss. After all, it's only ONE minor mistake. What else could possibly go wrong???

 

OUR PLAYERS FOR THE UPCOMING SEQUEL

 

YASHA BARNES-ROGERS, the Russian Mail Order "bride" with a little too much guilt in his ledger, and hopes to leave his ugly mistakes in the past. Yasha sets off on their honeymoon with the full intention of finally releasing the last threads of his past's guilt and heartache for good, but finds that the past doesn't really ever go away. When a figment of his history comes back to haunt him, Yasha faces the hard choice: Dwell forever on history and let it ruin the good relationship he's finally found in his life, or learn to live with it?

  

 

STEVE ROGERS, the man that wants nothing more than to show his new husband that life is worth living, and that Yasha is worth more than his mistakes. Steve, ever the unflappable one in the relationship, takes the bungles and mishaps thrown their way during their honeymoon in stride. He is first to embrace the negativities of their honeymoon, head on, and grows to care for their new friends right off the bat. However, his will is shaken when he and Yasha come to realize that perhaps their pasts were more entwined than they ever thought. Now, Steve has to come to terms with this revelation and what it could possibly mean for their happily wedded bliss. Will it drive a rift into their new marriage? Not if Steve has anything to say about it.

  

 

PETER QUILL. The resort employee with a huge heart who bends to rescue their honeymoon in anyway he can. He has a love-hate relationship with his supervisor, Yondu, and a firm hate for the authority of the grouchy resort owner, Mr. Ronan. Peter has a pet Raccoon named Rocket that likes to cause chaos on the island, and a potted plant he's named Groot, to keep him company when his co-workers leave for the winter season. Despite his happy-go-lucky nature, Peter may have more in common with the married couple he rescues, than anyone ever knew. (Yasha secretly wishes he had a pet Raccoon as awesome as Rocket. Peter knows this well).

  

 

THE OTHER MARRIED COUPLES ON THEIR HONEYMOON:

 

LEO AND JEMMA FITZSIMMONS. Plucky, smart and sensitive, these two wish to spend their holiday in Costa Rica after a lovely wedding in Europe and a hectic move to Washington D.C.. Being the youngest in their field, Jemma and Leo are brilliant scientists that seem a little intimidated by their honeymoon companions, but quickly grow comfortable around them as the three couples realize they have more in common than they thought. They grow to make great friends with the other two couples during their time together (though they really grow to hate cheap, American beer...)

  

  

 

DAISY "SKYE" AND LINCOLN CAMPBELL-JOHNSON. Witty, suave and charming, the two hit it off a little rough with Steve and Yasha their first day meeting, but the couple quickly grows closer to the others and develops equal bonds of friendship with the Rogers, as well as the FitzSimmons. Skye develops a deep friendship with Yasha after their rough beginnings, and the two learn to confide in each other, with similar pasts and life experiences that no one else could ever understand.

  

 

MR. RONAN, THE STUFFY RESORT OWNER. Mr. Ronan runs a very tight ship at the resort, and vows that any sort of shenanigans under his watch will be dealt with promptly. Mr. Ronan sees his employee's selfless act of caring for his resort guests as a disruption to his resort's integrity and vows to put an end to it before Peter can "ruin" his property any further.

  

 

MIKE YONDU, THE RESORT GROUNDS KEEPER. Yondu has a very unique personality, as he scares the hell out of anyone he runs into. Peter has once joked that Yondu has a habit of eating the ill-mannered children of resort guests. No one has ever really disputed that. Yondu has a very odd relationship with his employee, as both can't seem to stand each other, but still work together relatively well. 

  

 

IT'S A TROPICAL PARADISE WITH WAY MORE ADVENTURE THAN ANYONE EVER REALIZED. WILL THEIR HONEYMOONS END IN CHAOS? OR WILL YASHA AND STEVE HAVE THE BEST TIME OF THEIR LIVES, LEARNING TO LIVE AND LOVE LIFE JUST AS CRAZY AS IT IS???? STAY TUNED TO FIND OUT IN THE NEXT INSTALLMENT OF THE "YASHA AND STEVE" VERSE.

 

**THE HONEYMOON**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still in the process of plotting out the sequel, but I wanted to put this little teaser up as a way to show you guys i'm still planning on writing it! I hope you guys enjoyed the teaser and PLEASE let me know what you think!!!! I'm looking forward to this sequel, SO MUCH :D :D :D

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [TUMBLR](http://steves--winter--boobear.tumblr.com/) MY FLOCK.


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